


A Year in Perdition

by beth9891



Category: Glee, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, Sexual Content, Slash, refrences to past abuse nongraphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:04:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 108,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2678339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beth9891/pseuds/beth9891
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter had his future more or less planned out following the defeat of the darkest wizard Britain had ever seen. Too bad that plan is unexpectedly derailed after a drunken night out. A night that leads Harry to spending a year somewhere, with someone he never could have expected. Slash: Harry/Sebastian pairing. mainly followes Cannon history, AU after book seven (excludes epologue). Language and sexual content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Beautiful Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, so here is my first attempt at a harry potter/glee crossover. I am taking some liberties with both the characters and the orignal back stories-though I will try to stick to cannon as much as possible (more for the glee side then harry potter side). Note that this is a SLASH story so if you do not like or want to read about two hot guys getting it on then kindly click the back button ;)
> 
> disclaimer: I apparently do not own either glee or harry potter...no one seems to believe me when I say I'm JK or Ryan. sigh...alas I will have to stick with messing around with their lovely creations.
> 
> Hope you enjoy-eiither way leave a message to let me know!

 

**\---------------------------------------------------------OO-----------------------------------------------------------------**

_Haven't we met You're some kind of beautiful stranger You could be good for me I've had the taste for danger If I'm smart then I'll run away But I'm not so I guess I'll stay Heaven forbid I'll take my chance on a beautiful stranger_

_\-------------------------------------------OO-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Harry smiled at his drunk friend, who was currently slapping him on the back with enough force to cause Harry’s drink to slosh over his shoes.

“…bessst idea ever maate” Ron slurred, a huge grin plastered on his slightly flushed face.

Harry didn’t attempt to answer him; there was no way that Ron would be able to hear him over the thumping base of the song that was currently being blasted throughout the muggle club they were at. He was glad that Ron was starting to enjoy himself; at first the red head had been rather adamant that he didn’t want to go to ‘Poison,’ one of the hottest clubs in London, stating that muggles didn’t know how to party like wizards did.

Thankfully with the help of Dean and Neville, Harry had managed to convince a rather reluctant Ron and Seamus to give it a try. It had been two months since the epic ‘Hogwarts battle’ and subsequent death of Voldemort- an event that had just made the ‘great Harry Potter’ even more of a hero in the nation’s eyes. He could hardly step out of his door these days without getting completely mobbed by fan-girls (or in some cases boys) and the press.

In truth, a muggle club was the only plausible option for the group of boys if they hoped to be able to relax and have fun for once…at least Harry didn’t have to watch his drink as closely out of fear of getting drugged with love potion amongst the muggles.

He knew that it would help decrease some of the attention of his more ardent fans if the public didn’t think he was single. And he didn’t mean to be…at least not for long. He had known since the end of the war that he was attracted to both sexes (thank you Draco) but it hadn’t really been that much of a life changing discovery, it didn’t really change all that much; for he was still in love with Ginny and he planned on remaining that way.

While they weren’t together at the moment- in fact Ginny was currently seeing some other bloke she had met during the Hogwarts clean up (and wasn’t that a bit of a blow), he knew that in the end they would be. He didn’t begrudge her the fact that she was dating someone else at the moment, he wasn’t really capable of being what she needed right now.

Too much had happened to him during the war, and he was still in the process of grieving for those he had lost and sorting himself out…but he still planned on ending up with her. They had talked about it, what she had with Garret was casual and they both knew that they were just having a bit of fun. She had hinted to Harry that he do the same until both of them were ready to settle down and commit to a serious relationship…hence the reason that he was here now….to find something casual and fun. A bit of stress relief, really.

But that was it, in his head Ginny was what was at the end of the road…a fact that was simply reinforced by his purchase of a ring…It was in no way meant for now or even a few months from now…but eventually. Eventually there was Ginny, and a brood of redheaded children running around.

But for now he was interested in finding someone who just wanted a one-off, or if they were really good perhaps a two-off….it didn’t really matter in the end. A muggle was his best option; someone who didn’t know his name or wouldn’t go running to Rita with an exclusive ‘I slept with Harry Potter’ story the morning after… someone who wouldn’t get the idea that a night together meant they were in love. So yes, a muggle was the safest option.

He scanned the club looking for potentials but not really finding any…he wasn’t worried about what his friends might think. The only one who might begrudge him this was Ron (Seamus had known about his inclinations since he stumbled upon Harry giving Draco a blowjob in their sixth year…apparently that hallway wasn’t so deserted after all) but he wasn’t overly worried. He had told Ron he was Bi back when they were hunting horcruxes; the red head had blown up as expected and it was probably one of the reasons he had chosen to leave for a few months.

But Ron had gotten over it and had come back, tail between his legs an apology ready. Harry had forgiven him- like he had so many other times in the past…the red head had a narrow world view and hot temper but in the end his heart was in the right place. Ron had also spoken to Ginny and while he was not thrilled about their casual, ‘seeing other people’ phase he said he would stay out of it.

Ron had stumbled away by now, making his way over to where Neville was dancing with some blond girl (Neville had filled out during their last year in Hogwarts; muscle replacing fat)… when Harry saw _him_.

He was exactly Harry’s type. He was gorgeous, of that there was no doubt, but what really drew Harry’s attention was the arrogant confidence he was giving off. Harry wasn’t sure why, but he found cockiness in another person was a major turn on. Maybe it was to do with the fact that up until recently (aka: when the war really started) he had never had much confidence in himself (thank you Durselys) but whatever the reason he found it irresistible.

He downed the rest of his drink and slowly made his way onto the dance floor- while he had his eyes on the blond, he would never approach him….no he would make the man come to him if the blond was interested. Sometimes it was fun to be both predator and prey.

As he started to dance, allowing his body to move with the music he saw the pale green eyes catch sight of him and the boy they belonged to started making his way over to where Harry was dancing.

Harry smiled to himself….this was what he wanted- no, needed; a bit of fun with a gorgeous stranger.

What’s the worst that could happen?

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Sebastian was pissed, and not in the ‘I’ve had a few too many shots and my head is a little fuzzy’ kind of way either. No, he was the bad kind of pissed.

The ‘my asshole of a father is making me go back to Lima, Ohio’ kind of pissed. Well okay, he could add his pathetic excuse of a mother to that statement as well he suppose. At least with his dad, Sebastian knew that he meant well…or at least Sebastian thought he did. His mother on the other hand….

Well. Whatever, so what if his mom didn’t want him around for more than a summer? So what if he couldn’t stay and go to school in a cultural Mecca (aka: clubs and people who didn’t drive pickup trucks) like London? Sure, his father stated that Sebastian needed to learn from his mistakes ‘bla bla bla.’ And indeed what had happened last year in Ohio had been a mistake.

A mistake that Sebastian spent most nights in places like this, drinking and fucking as much as he could to forget. A mistake that had cost him the only true friend he had ever had….yes, that kind of mistake. He told himself he didn’t care that Blaine no longer wanted anything to do with him, that it didn’t hurt to know that his beautiful friend had chosen the stuck up princess over him…of course the stuck up princess hadn’t almost blinded Blaine either…so there was that.

Nope. Sebastian didn’t care…not one iota.

Which was why he was going to spend the last few days he had in London getting wasted and fucking every beautiful man who would have him. And London was full of beautiful men…of that there was no question.

So far the night had been a bit of a doozy. He had spent the first hour or so with some bloke named matt…or mike…or something with an m anyway. He was cute, in an ordinary sort of way…brown hair (too light), brown eyes (too dull) and a toned body (not compact enough)…an unmemorable blowjob in the bathroom later and Sebastian was over it.

He was actually considering leaving…maybe trying his luck out at another club…. when he saw _him_. He felt himself take a sharp breath when he caught sight of the dark haired beauty dancing by himself on the dance floor. He stood out despite the fact that there was a mass of people crushing in from every side. And yet he seemed to take no notice of them.

Oh, there were people who tried to dance up beside him but the man ignored them. He looked young; Sebastian suspected a fake id….but who knew? maybe he was in his twenties and just one of those eternally youthful looking people.

What really caught Sebastian’s attention was the silkily black hair…hair that curled just so at the base of the man’s slender neck. He was petite too….not the scrawny kind but the compact, wiry type…perfect. When Sebastian met his eyes they were the wrong color….a deep eye catching green, far more vibrant then Sebastian’s own pale green, but surprisingly Sebastian didn’t care. They were gorgeous enough to make up for not being the warm golden hue he was really after.

He knew in that moment that he wanted him….and for once he was going to get what he wanted. Screw Lima, his father, his mother and….Blaine, for tonight he was going to just have fun and forget. Forget about everything but him and the gorgeous man on the dance floor.

It was a solid plan….really what was the worst thing that could happen?

 


	2. Thanks for the Memories

* * *

 

_One night, yeah and one more time_

_Thanks for the memories_

_Been looking forward to the future_

_When my eyesight is going bad,_

_And this crystal ball_

_It’s always cloudy, except…_

_When you look into the past_

_One night stand_

* * *

 

 

_Harry lost himself in the warm body behind him, the music and the pulsing strobe light of the club just added to the already booze induced haze. He couldn’t recall how many songs they had danced, or the number of shots they had drank, for that matter. He moved his hips, grinding back into a noticeably hard Sebastian._

_Sebastian…if that wasn’t a bloody hot name. It sounded like sex…or something…what was he thinking about again? Oh right the hot boy currently trailing his hands down Harry’s sides…the hot boy named Sebastian._

_“Want to get out of here?” said boy murmured in his ear while tracing the outer shell with his tongue._

_Harry bit back a groan and managed to nod, turning slightly to grab Sebastian’s hand. This was the reason he had come tonight….he didn’t even have to worry about letting his mates know. They had established a rule that if you weren’t waiting in the front of the club by 2am then you were assumed to have found another way home (or another place to call home for the night).It might have seemed a little reckless given what they had all been through, but they trusted each other enough to know that everyone of them could take care of themselves…drunk or not._

_And at this point, Harry was far too drunk to think about what he was doing…there was no way he could apparate the two of them home safely- that was for sure. Not to mention the guy currently trying to grope his ass was a muggle…_

_“Your place?” Harry asked as they managed to stumble their way out of the club. Sebastian seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding in agreement. Harry was more than a little relieved…he was pretty sure Ron and Neville were planning on crashing in Grimmauld place and he really didn’t like the thought of doing what he was planning on doing with Sebastian with them a few doors down…even with silencing charms. Better to avoid an extremely awkward breakfast situation tomorrow morning._

_Sebastian didn’t waste any time hailing a cab, drunkenly pulling Harry into the back seat when one finally stopped. “Nitron Street, Bishop Park…number 8*” Sebastian rattled off before pulling Harry to him and proceeding in trying to suck his lungs out._

_Had Harry been a little more sober he was sure he would have been fire engine red from embarrassment, but he wasn’t so he really didn’t care if the taxi driver was glaring at them from the front seat. They spent the remainder of the drive completely ignoring said driver._

_Harry was vaguely cognizant that they pulled up to a white town house in a very nice area of London- the part of his mind that wasn’t completely blitzed on alcohol or Sebastian’s lips noted that the boy who was currently pushing him into the dark blue door was obviously very wealthy. Not that Harry really cared about this fact- given his own current net worth. But still he was surprised that the boy now licking a path down the side of his neck would trust a stranger enough to bring him back to a place like this._

_A moment later however he really wasn’t really thinking about anything..._

Harry let out a soft groan as he tried to roll over without causing himself to hurl. Memories of last night caused him to smile even if his head was currently in the process of being split in two. He sighed and lay back down noting that this was definitely not his bed. Must have gone to Sebastian’s place then. He felt someone (he was assuming Sebastian) shift next to him, a warm arm slid over his naked chest.

Harry sighed again and reluctantly squinted his eyes at the alarm clock blinking cruelly at him from the bedside table….8:06am. He really should get up and go home…Ron and the guys were probably still sleeping off the nights excess and he would prefer to be back before they woke up. Not that he had anything to hide…but it would make it far less awkward then having to walk in the door while everyone was down stairs waiting for his arrival.

Thank God Seamus wasn’t crashing at Harry’s, the git would get way to much pleasure out of Harry’s walk of shame. Stupid Irish wanker.

He carefully shifted the pale arm off of his chest and started to wiggle his way out of the vast amount of covers currently tangled up around his legs. Apparently he wasn’t quite quiet enough as sleep dulled green eyes peered up at him.

“Whhat time is it?” the brunette (or was it dirty blond? Never mind he had always been pants at figuring this kind of stuff out) mumbled into his pillow.

“Eight” Harry answered simply starting the search for his elusive clothes. Apparently they hadn’t taken the time to fold them neatly and place them all together in one place.

“Fuck” Sebastian cursed finally rolling over and sitting up, squinting moodily at Harry. He moved his hand up to rub the sleep out of his eyes and Harry froze.

What the fuck was around his finger? “You’re married?” he asked in disbelief, suddenly feeling a thousand times worse about last night’s activities. Fuck. He could have sworn that Sebastian wasn’t wearing a ring last night. Dammit…he had never wanted to be _that_ guy….the home wrecker.

“What the fuck are you talking about” Sebastian snapped back at him.

“You’re married…the ring. On. Your. Finger.” Harry stated emphasizing each word and gesturing to Sebastian’s right hand. When he went to point the obvious out to Sebastian something caught his eye.

Something on his own right hand, fourth finger….no. Fuck. Fuck .Fuck…oh no, that was not good. Harry stared down at his own gold banded ring on his finger. He instantly felt the previous nausea come back full force.

He didn’t bother to wait for Sebastian’s explanation as he bolted towards what appeared to be an attached bathroom. He made it just in time.

A good twenty minutes later he shakily walked back into the room, where Sebastian was now sitting, fully dressed on the bed.

“What the fuck is this? Some sort of practical joke? Because I’m not laughing” Sebastian spat at him, waving his own ringed finger in front of him.

Harry didn’t know what to say…he would admit that his memory was a little hazy from last night but he swore that they hadn’t visited a chapel of any sort. No, he was positive they had gotten a cab and come straight to Sebastian’s (was it even Sebastian’s? fuck he knew literally nothing about the guy) loft.

They had had sex….really really awesome sex…and a lot of it….and then they fell asleep. Definitely no minster, church or exchanging of vows involved. Something tickled the back of his mind but he couldn’t quite bring himself to focus on it.

“I don’t know…maybe we decided to put on rings as a joke?” Harry suggested though it sounded weak even to his own ears.

Sebastian glared at him, “then why can’t I get mine off?” he asked icily demonstrating the fact by pulling harshly on the gold ring. Like he said…it didn’t budge.

Harry instantly tried to do the same thing and felt his stomach swoop even lower when he couldn’t get his off either. The panic that he had been keeping at bay until just then was threatening to bubble over.

Then that little niggling in the back of his brain chose to make itself known. Fuck. Oh this was not good…

Harry wanted to smack his head against the wall and cry at the unfairness that was his life, instead he decided to ask Sebastian about his realization and see if he had maybe just imagined it.

“um…wh-when we first…er…you know..”Harry stumbled with his words suddenly feeling super awkward without the warm confidence that being drunk brought. Not that he was unconfident by any means, but who could blame him for a little stuttering given the current situation? Yeah exactly.

Sebastian shot him a look that told him to get on with it.

“…er…well did you notice a sort of golden light?” Harry finished hurriedly praying that the answer would be no.

Sebastian scrunched up his forehead as though he was trying to think back…after a few seconds his face paled considerably, “…yes” he answered his voice full of dread.

‘Oh no…this was bad…really bad’ Harry’s thoughts were flitting through his brain too fast to really make sense of them. And then a thought made him pause. Wait…what? This shouldn’t be possible…Sebastian was a muggle….what happened should be impossible…unless….

“Are you a wizard?!” Harry demanded knowing that if the blond wasn’t he would sound like a complete nut job.

Sebastian swallowed and for the first time looked a little more scared then angry, “…no” he answered but continued before Harry could start coming up with some logical explanation as to why he had just asked that, “…but my great grandmother was a squib…”

Harry stared at him in disbelief. How did this happen? He had gone specifically to a muggle bar in hopes of finding a muggle for a night of fun. Instead, in typical Potter luck, he ended up finding probably the only squib in the club, not to mention a squib who apparently had enough magic running through his veins to allow for a magical bond to form.

Not even taking into the account the improbability of finding someone whose core was so compatible with his that one night of fucking had allowed for a freaking bond to form. The odds were astronomical…like surviving the killing curse…twice kind of odds.

Sometimes he really hated his whole doing the impossible shtick.

Harry let out a distressed groan and sank back against the wall nearest him, what were they suppose to do now?

“Care to share with the class?” Sebastian asked sarcastically, “Is this what I think it is?” he added. Obviously whoever raised him had kept him fairly informed about magic and its laws…he was really surprised the boy hadn’t recognized him yet. Of course he had lost the infamous glasses and lightning bolt scar…but still…

He quickly dismissed these thoughts and arrived at a plausible line of action, “Come on…we need to visit the Minstery” he stated straightening up from his previous position. Everything was okay…Kingsley would know what to do…he would just annul it or….something.

Feeling much better he marched out of the room, not checking to see if Sebastian was following.

Yes, this wasn’t as bad as it seemed….they could fix this. No, scratch that….

They had better fix this.

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Sebastian sulkily followed the green eyed boy—and what was his name again? He was sure the guy had told him last night….it started with an H…anyway, not important at the moment, as he was sure he would never set eyes on him again after they got this whole bonding catastrophe fixed-- into the cab H had called.

He was doing his best not to oogle the boy’s ass…but hey it was a really fine ass, and technically he had every right at the moment to stare at it considering he was apparently bound to the owner of aforementioned ass at the moment. He couldn’t believe this had happened- to sleep and accidently bond to a freaking wizard…well he was assuming that said owner was a wizard.

Though in truth he might be another squib, though from what his great grandmother had told him squibs usually didn’t have enough magic to do things like bond. Why he apparently did, was a mystery to him-though his grandmother did say that she was from a very ancient magical line. Of course that hadn’t stopped her family from basically disowning her when they found out she didn’t even have enough magic to lift a feather. (Something wizards did apparently…bunch of weird freaks).

He was determined not to show his own discomfort over this situation or lack of knowledge-- appearing unsure just gave others a weapon to use against you after all. Therefore he did not allow himself to so much as blink in astonishment when he and H entered a cramped little telephone booth.

“I thought we were going to visit this stupid ministry of yours? Not get cozy in some gross old phone booth…though if this is your way of hinting that you want to make use of said booth, I am more than willing” Sebastian stated sending a salacious wink towards the other boy.

H rolled his eyes at the antics and muttered something about ‘being a hybrid of Draco and Blaise’, to which Sebastian had no idea what he was referring of. That was another thing that was causing Sebastian no small amount of irritation.

The boy was supposed to stammer and blush adorably at Sebastian’s blatant flirting not snort derisively and dismiss him….

He sighed to himself, god he was getting really pathetic comparing every conquest to a certain ex-warbler from Ohio. It really needed to stop. Well, he would deal with his unhealthy obsession another time; at the moment he had bigger things to worry about…like getting a magical divorce.

He followed H through a huge room that was whirring with activity and a number of very oddly dressed people. At first he thought they were wearing dresses (had H brought him to some cross-dressing conference?) before he realized that no, they were actually adorned in what appeared to be weird old robes. Again wizards were a strange bunch.

He had to actually quicken his step to keep up with the raven haired boy who was marching across the room, not even getting time to take in the green flamed fireplaces (that people kept appearing out of), or the huge marble statue in the center. Considering how short the other boy was, he could certainly move.

The man sitting at what appeared to be a check in counter moved as though he was going to stop them before catching sight of the other boy and waving them through with a “Oh it’s you Mr. Potter, go on through”

Potter….why did that name sound vaguely familiar….

He did not get a chance to ponder this however as the boy-Potter apparently, continued his march right into what looked like a large elevator. Sebastian just hopped in before the door slid shut- oddly enough he and Potter were the only two on the lift despite it being nine o’clock in the morning.

Having nothing better to do and not really knowing what he would talk about with Potter even if he were so inclined, he decided to take the time to observe the boy; now that Sebastian wasn’t completely plastered and the boy’s features weren’t obscured by the dim club lights.

He had been right the night before; the boy was gorgeous…though not exactly as close to the type Sebastian had been after as he had originally thought. It was true Potter had a the same dark black hair as a certain someone, but unlike the firmly gelled-into submission locks Sebastian had come to adore, Potter’s hair was a wild, untamed mess—though Sebastian had to admit it suited the boy.

Of course his eyes were extremely different from the warm golden hue of Blaine’s, not only in their coloring but the edgy awareness in them. Blaine’s had always held such innocent wonder as opposed to the sharp recklessness of this boy’s. Then there was his features…Blaine’s were softer, kinder while Potters were sharp and defined—like he hadn’t had a good meal in quite some time.

Finally, while it was true that both boys were petite and slim-- Potter’s body seemed to be almost unnaturally slim consisting of wiry muscle that never really relaxed, while Blaine’s had a more compact form- muscle gained from purposeful workout rather than everyday life.

In all honesty had Sebastian not been so friggen obsessed with a certain curly haired Anderson, he would have been more than happy with the beautiful specimen in front of him…but alas he couldn’t quite get the thought of Blaine out of his mind- the sting of losing out to Kurt only making him focus on the boy in question that much more.

It there was one thing that Sebastian hated more than anything it was losing.  

The elevator door pinged open to reveal a floor that was only marginally smaller then the huge hall they had just left, only this one was crammed full of desks in which harried looking men and woman sat behind frantically filling out forms, while what appeared to be paper planes zipped back and forth through the air. Sebastian wasn’t quite sure what the hell to make of the scene before him. Maybe he had taken some sort of drug last night and this was all just a horrifying hallucination?

As much as he tried to avoid doing drugs it would be a better alternative to not having taken anything and this all being reality. Unfortunately he was pretty sure it was the second option that was true.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Potter stopped in front of a large desk with a plump girl sitting behind it. She appeared to have taken whatever make-up advice she had gotten at the Macy’s Makeup counter far too seriously, if the bright sapphire eye shadow and very red lipstick was anything to go by. Her focus immediately zoomed in on Potter bypassing Sebastian completely.

If he hadn’t already been in a pissy mood that small fact certainly would have sent him there. He didn’t care that he literally had zero interest in her (and not only because he definitely did not swing that way), the fact that she appeared to have no interest in him was simply not acceptable. _Everyone_ had interest in him!

“Oh!” she squeaked and started bat her heavily mascaraed eye lashes at the green eyed boy, “Mister Potter” she drew out the name with a sickening amount of sweetness, Sebastian did not miss the pained grimace on Potter’s face at the sound.

Yet the raven haired boy quickly banished his obvious distaste and fixed a charming smile on his face, “Ms. Jenons...I need to speak to the minster…it’s quite urgent” he added as an afterthought.

The causal way that Potter requested an audience with the minster caused Sebastian to raise an eye brow…was it common that any wizard could march in and demand a face to face with the head of the magical government? Somehow between the guard’s reaction downstairs and the simpering idiot’s in front of him, Sebastian didn’t think so. Something about Potter was apparently special enough to warrant such treatment.

He pushed aside the flutter in his stomach at the thought…he had always appreciated power.

“oooh….of course! I will let him know you are here…I do believe he has been wanting to speak to you anyway” she cooed pushing back from her desk and click clacking her way over to a closed office door. Her high red heels clashed horribly with the magenta robes she was wearing and made Sebastian want to trip her all the more. (What? There were certain people who could get away with poor fashion taste…cough cough bow ties….and those who couldn’t, Ms. Tramp here was definitely in the second category).

Sebastian shot a covert glance over at Potter to see how he was reacting to the news that the Minster had wanted to speak with him, expecting at least a small amount of nervousness but all he was met with was boredom. For some reason this rankled Sebastian even more…bored superiority was _his_ thing!

“Minster Shacklebolt is waiting for you” Ms. Jenons stated flashing another far too wide smile at Potter, one which the boy ignored in favor of moving confidently towards the office door.

Sebastian followed along after him (slightly resentful in the fact that he was the one following) and tried not to gape at the imperious looking man in front of him. Sebastian was quite used to being around intimidating people (aka: his father and his business partners) but this wizards made him want to shrink back and apologize…for whatever he had done wrong.

The man in front of him had an almost regal air to him; this impression was only amplified by his rich blue robes, dark skin and the commanding air around him. Once again Potter surprised him by breaking out in a smile and hugging- _hugging_!! the wizard.

“Kingsley” Potter greeted his tone infused with a warmth that Sebastian had yet to have heard from the green eyed teen. He felt a brief stab of jealousy but quickly dismissed it as stress.

“Harry…it’s so good to see you…I had been meaning to arrange a meeting between the two of us…” Kingsley answered just as warmly though in a much deeper voice, “…things have been rather hectic, since I’ve been elected”

Harry shrugged and smiled, “I assumed….” He stated before shifting looking uncomfortably at his hand, “…er…this isn’t exactly a social call…” he stated trailing off.

Kingsley gestured towards the two chairs in front of his desk before moving to situate himself behind said desk, “I assumed as much…what can I do for you?”

Harry (see he knew it started with an H!) sat with a sigh looking a little embarrassed, “er…it would seem that I have managed to get accidently bonded to Sebastian” he stated the words rushed while gesturing towards where Sebastian had sat down.

The minster seemed surprised for a moment at the mention of Sebastian, obviously haven forgotten that he was even there…once again Sebastian bit down his annoyance before the minster seemed to process the words that Harry had spoken.

“B-Bonded?” he choked out looking at Harry as though the teen was about to tell him that this was all an elaborate joke (Sebastian could sympathize with him on that point).

Harry sighed again, moving one hand to massage his temple effectively covering his eyes, “…unfortunately…” he stated finally holding up his right hand to display the gleaming gold ring.

Kingsley just stared at it for a long minute, “…ho-how did this come about?” he finally asked when it seemed as though he couldn’t make the ring disappear by staring at it.

Harry flushed a deep red (which made Sebastian much happier…at least he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable about this whole thing), “….mmm….the..er..the usual way….” Harry muttered before adding the next sentence quickly, “…minus the ceremony and intent part”

It was the minster’s turn to look embarrassed and he let out an awkward cough, “Ah…I …see. So what is it that you have come to me for?” he asked though he most likely knew.

“We were hoping to reverse it….it would be rather, um looked down on if this got out…” Harry trailed off looking at the same time both hopeful and resentful.

Sebastian wasn’t even going to try and decipher the reason for that. He was all for getting this reversed and the sooner the better.

Kingsley nodded emphatically obviously agreeing with whatever Harry was alluding too, before straightening slightly and looking determined, “Yes you are quite correct…can I see the ring?” he asked.

Harry squirmed again, “We…We can’t exactly take them off” he stated quietly.

“Pardon?” Kinglsey asked as though he had misheard the teen.

“We can’t take them off…as in literally. We’ve tried; they are basically a part of our fingers” Harry stated louder, yanking on the ring to demonstrate the fact.

Kinglsey paled dramatically, his dark brows furrowing.

Sebastian wasn’t the only one who picked up on the change of demeanor in the regal wizard, “What?” Harry asked voice full of trepidation.

“I had hoped that it was just a loose bond…like a magical accident…” Kingsley trailed off holding onto Harry’s hand and turning it so that he could better study the ring.

Sebastian had to stop himself from snatching the green eyed wizards hand back from the minster (and what the hell was that about? He wasn’t the type who normally got jealous over someone—well if you could disregard Blaine that is—especially a one night stand).

“But?” Harry prompted looking anxiously down at the ring that Kingsley was studying.

“But...it would appear that the bond did not happen accidently” Kingsley stated.

“What?!?!” both Harry and Sebastian shouted.

Kinglsey released Harry’s hand to hold his own up in a placating gesture. “I am not saying that either of you meant for this to happen…but your cores…” and he paused to look at Sebastian for a moment, “...yes, Sebastian it would appear you do in fact have a functioning core...” before continuing, “have deemed you completely compatible” he finished.

Both boys gaped at him, though for different reasons—Sebastian because he was still caught up on the fact that he apparently had a functioning magical core and Harry because his core had found someone who was actually magically compatible with him; even after all of the dark-grey rituals he had undergone during his training to defeat Voldemort (something that was suppose to destroy the core’s ability to find compatibility).

Harry shook of his surprise and focused back on the task at hand, “…so what does that mean exactly?”

Kingsley sighed and slumped back slightly in his chair, “It means that even if I wanted to I can’t annul your bond…” he stated wearily and once again held up his hand to silence the protests about to be slung his way. “…I can’t annul it for at least a year; a year in which you both put a solid effort into discovering why you are compatible to each other outside your magic. And please remember magic is rarely wrong about these things”

Both Harry and Sebastian stared at him, “…but…I…wha- can’t” Harry spluttered looking very lost.

“No!...no way” Sebastian added shaking his head.

Kingsley glared at both of them, “You have no choice…the bond will not allow you to separate for long periods of time…it will demand that you spend a certain amount of time together and you will likely be uncomfortable unless it thinks you are making an effort to appease it”

Sebastian felt so very confused, “you speak as though it’s alive” he stated slowly latching on to a detail that didn’t make him want to cry.

“It is essentially…” Kingsley replied, though it really wasn’t an answer at all.

Harry slumped in his chair looking thoroughly defeated, “so what now?” he asked.

“You will have to live together for a year…if by the end of the year things still haven’t settled, the bond will either make you continue to try or it will simply dissolve seeing your pairing as a mistake” Kingsley explained.

Harry looked as close to breaking down as Sebastian felt.

“Now all you have to decide is what the two of you are going to do”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and lyrics: Thanks for the memories-Fall Out Boy


	3. Running Away

* * *

 

_And try, and try to understand me And try to understand what I say when I say I can't stay I, I'm moving on from this place I'm leaving and I won't quit running away._

_I'm running away. I'm leaving this place. Yeah, I'm running away. I'm running away_

_Running away-Midnight hour_

* * *

 

Harry fought to keep his face blank and uninterested; but it was rather hard. He had, after all never been on a muggle airplane before and even though he had flown on a broomstick, in a flying car and even on the back of both a thestral and a dragon, he was still rather impressed with muggle’s ingenuity. I mean none of the previously mentioned modes of transportation had comfortable (well relatively) seats, a television or trays to hold served meals.

And after the debacle in Mr. Weasley’s car, Harry could definitely appreciate having drinks served half way through the flight, even if he had to hide his distaste when Sebastian ordered a travel size bottle of vodka to go with his orange juice. It wasn’t as though Harry was a prude or anything, but he thought that his ‘husband’ (because what other word was there for what they were now?) could go without booze for one conversation at least.

But whatever. Harry was determined not to enter his ‘new life—ok so temporary life; as he had no intention on staying in Lima, Ohio after this mandatory one year,’-- filled with negative thoughts (most of them directed towards Sebastian). And for the most part he was managing to do this fairly well.

After all he was looking at the whole flying thing as a positive…and then there was the getting away from the wizarding world for a little bit…that was also a positive. He might actually be able to act like a normal teen for once (he had only turned eighteen last month after all), and not be reminded that he was a celebrated hero for having murdered someone, everywhere he went.

So, yes he was trying to be positive about this whole thing…that included ignoring the fact that the man he had married was a spoilt, bratty asshole. It included ignoring the fact that he was barely on speaking terms with the majority of his adoptive family—Ginny really hadn’t reacted all that well to the fact that he was now bonded. Apparently seeing other people and bonding to other people were really very different in her eyes. And finally it included ignoring the fact that he was heading to a tiny little town in the middle of America where he knew literally no one outside of Sebastian and his father.

Yup….not thinking about any of that…going to remain optimistic….treat this like an exciting new opportunity to discover himself outside of the wizard, the savior and the house slave. Time to see who Harry the husband was. Joy.

Surprisingly, Harry found that he actually liked Sebastian’s father. Well, as much as he could like anyone who reminded him eerily of a nicer, friendlier Lucius Malfoy. Of course anyone who wasn’t trying to kill him or sell him out to a mass murder was nicer then Lucius, so really Anthony Symthe didn’t have too much to live up to. But still Symthe Sr. actually made an effort to welcome Harry to the family.

It helped of course that this small fact obviously pissed Sebastian off even more. Harry suspected that the whole reason Sebastian had introduced the two of them (outside the fact that Harry would be spending the next month living in the man’s house that is) was in hopes of showing Harry just how unwanted he was. Of course the fact that this backfired on the prissy asshole was rather satisfying.

Turns out that Smyth Sr. was thrilled that Sebastian had finally settled down (regardless of whether or not it was Sebastian’s choice) and even if Anthony would have preferred a pretty little blond girl with a Harvard acceptance, he was ready to accept a lauded war hero with a large bank account to his name. Harry suspected that had it been Ron who accidently bonded to his son, Anthony would not have been quite so welcoming.

He quickly banished any pangs of regret he felt over thinking about his redheaded best friend—or could he still call Ron his best friend? Ron hadn’t exactly said otherwise, although he had clearly stated that he needed time away from Harry to process the whole Sebastian thing. Turns out that while Ron was on his way to accepting the fact that his best friend was into both girls and guys, that he hadn’t quite reached the point where he truly was ok with it.

So really, Harry leaving for a little while to give Ron and everyone else time to get used to the idea (or until he was no longer tied to the snob sitting next to him) was really the best…for everyone.

That was what he was telling himself anyhow.

Unfortunately, no matter how much he told himself that it didn’t matter…that he didn’t care, there was one thing that was weighing on his mind more then he would have liked it to. As cliché as it sounded, Harry knew he had a few issues….issues that were no doubt thanks to the Dursley’s loving words and actions throughout his formative years.

If there was one fear that continued to haunt him to this day, it was being unwanted. How many times had Vernon, Petunia or even Dudley (although Dudley had gotten better during the last year) reminded him of how much of a burden he was? Of how they had never and would never want him? So yes, finding himself in what was basically a marriage where his husband had no bones about voicing just how much he resented being stuck with Harry was not the easiest of things.

It wasn’t that Harry hadn’t expected this reaction, hell if he was being honest it wasn’t like he wanted to be with Sebastian anymore then Sebastian wanted to be with him….but it still made something twist in his gut every time the brunette glared at him or made a snide remark. He was handling it, pretending that it wasn’t affecting him; but it was. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do about it…at least right now. It would take them more than a few days to get used to the idea of being tied together. He figured the best thing that he could do at the moment was to continue pretending that he was unaffected by Sebastian’s attitude towards him and give his husband space. After all, if Sebastian was going to ignore him and treat him with distain then the least Harry could do was dish it right back.

The bond unfortunately was not helping his resolve to avoid and ignore his husband in the least, because while he could understand at least partially why Sebastian was acting the way he was and even go so far as returning the favor, the insistent, buzzing pull underneath his skin, that constantly urged him to get closer to the brunette was making very hard to remember his self made promises.

And while he had caught a few grimaces or looks of discomfort on Sebastian’s face from time to time he had to wonder if the brunette was feeling the same itchiness as he was or if Sebastian was simply put off at the thought of being anywhere in close proximity to him. He found himself wondering if he was the only one feeling the bond….it had him questioning his sanity more and more often since that horrible life changing morning. It wasn’t as though it was a constant thing—but it did seem to flare up whenever too much time had passed between seeing Sebastian and it only seemed to ease off completely when there was physical contact between them. But still, he wasn’t new to discomfort and he would be damned if he gave in to the pull before Sebastian did.

He sighed in irritation, once more shifting restlessly in his seat…it just seemed monumentally unfair that he should once again be the only one suffering the ill effects from an unwanted and unintended bonding—true it was probably much more preferable to being mentally linked to a genocidal mass murderer but still….couldn’t he just once make a decision and not suffer physically from it? Though if he was going to do the whole optimistic thing, at least he was now bonded to someone who he could actually look at without wanting to stab his eyes out—Sebastian did have the whole gorgeous asshole thing going for him, but then again in this situation his competition was a red eyed snake hybrid so it was hardly a tough win.

Harry heard the warning announcement about returning to their seats and fastening their seatbelts as they were approaching their final destination ring through the over head intercom. He craned his neck to see the approaching city of Toledo, noting with interest the fact that it was next to a large body of water. Lake Erie, if he remembered correctly from the hurried research he had done on the area after he had agreed to accompany Sebastian back to where he went to school.

Symthe Sr. had been more than happy to speak to the headmaster at the private boys school that Sebastian was currently attending to get Harry admitted. He had somehow managed to do so even though Harry had no formal ‘muggle’ education after the age of eleven. Somehow Kingsley had given him false papers that listed Hogwarts as a very private and privileged school, so of course Dalton was happy to have him. Passing Dalton’s rigorous courses was another story completely however and Harry suspected he would be doing a lot of cramming in the next month or so.

The next few hours passed much like the entire plane ride did, in silence. Other than a few snide remarks from Sebastian while he watched Harry fumble his way through customs and collect his luggage (not that Harry had much…he hadn’t exactly done much shopping in between getting his life back following the battle and now) and finally meeting the driver that Mr. Symthe had sent to pick them up    (The elder Symthe was still in Europe for another week something about some business merger-- another thing that had made the frown lines on Sebastian’s face a little more pronounced ) they basically ignored each other.

He found himself once again struggling with the impulse to plant himself directly on the brunettes lap…from the glare Sebastian was sending him he was fairly certain the teen would not appreciate this line of action. Instead he folded his balled fists on his lap and willed himself to remain where he was—if the sting of his nails biting into flesh helped center his mind and kept him from resisting his irritating urges then so be it.

Once again Harry knew what Sebastian was trying to do…hell, he had dealt with Draco and his minions enough (prior to them sort of agreeing to a hesitant truce and than an eventual friendship…and er…other things) to know that the teen was trying to unnerve him with his cold demeanor.

Well, too bad for him because even if it caused that stomach twisting anxiety- Harry refused to let it show, he refused be cowed. If Sebastian wanted to ignore him and act superior, than Harry could give it right back—well, except the whole superior thing…he had never really mastered that skill without feeling guilty—but he was damn good at the ignoring thing, at least outside of his brain anyway.

The drive back to Westerville (apparently they weren’t staying in Lima after all, that was simply where Sebastian drove to get his coffee for some bizarre reason—because really driving an hour and a half for a fricking cup of coffee made sense…but whatever, to each his own and all that-- was tense.

It had been easier to deal with the silence between them on the plane because he could pretend to be watching TV or reading his book, somehow it just didn’t feel quite right pulling out the novel he had bought in the airport (of course Sebastian had sneered when he saw the title—not that Harry really cared, he kind of liked _1984*…_ though in some ways in struck a little close to home…hello Dumbledore anyone?). So, instead he resolutely kept his eyes on the scenery that passed them by.

And it was the polar opposite of England. Where England’s country side (not that he had seen a ton of it) was filled with moors and gently rolling hills, more often than not hosting banks of fog and rain…Ohio was flat. Flat and filled with sun and fields of –not to sound cliché but…golden crops.

And Harry hated it. He already missed the coolness that was ever present; even in the middle of August that came with living in England. In truth it really wasn’t like he missed England’s climate all that much, it was more the city or if he wasn’t in the middle of London, the burrow that he missed. Thoughts of the burrow and quiditch filled afternoons just reminded him of the pain he had forbidden himself to think of. And to think that all of this was because he was stupid enough to sleep with the moron across from him…

He sighed and then locked up any homesickness or melancholy that might be plaguing him; he was determined not to let them drag him down. This was basically a new start for him….he could survive one year…hell, maybe he might even find happiness here.

Sneaking a glance at the scowling face of his husband he found the last bit a little hard to believe.

But hell, if he and Draco had managed to mend fences surely Harry could manage to tolerate one annoying squib….right?

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

When Sebastian’s mother had basically told him that she did not want him around for more than a summer’s worth of time (not that he had actually spent any quality time with her over said summer) he had expected his return to Westerville, Ohio to be a painful and disappointing. Why? Well obviously because it was Westerville-fucking-Ohio…duh.

Ok, so his dread over having to return to this god-forsaken-shit hole of a town had more to it than just the lack of entertainment, the red-neck-back water views on basically everything (including his sexual preference), and sharing a living space with his control freak of a father. No, it was much more due to the fact that he really didn’t want to face up to his ginormously fucked-up mistake. A mistake that he had learned (thank –you facebook) was now coined the slushy situation (and come on…originality anyone?).

So, having to return back to Dalton; not only with his tail between his legs (as he had made a very spectacular show of just how much he despised everything about the school and the people going there in a moment of transference…hey, he had never been good at accepting responsibility—so sue him) but actually married was beyond the nightmare he had previously been picturing.

And ok, so maybe being married to an admittedly extremely hot guy wasn’t quite the life ending situation he was making it out to be…but if there was one thing about Sebastian Symthe that everyone knew, it was that he didn’t do marriage. Oh no, he had made it perfectly clear where his views on such banal things stood…and that was very, very far away from any alter.

So yes….come September first, there was going to be a huge steaming slice of crow pie waiting for him. To make matters worse Harry (and yes…he had finally learned and actually taken to using his new husband’s name) was not the type to lie down and make things easier. Oh no! Apparently fate had seen it fit to saddle him with the most stubborn and infuriating spouse ever!

Somehow, Sebastian knew that Harry wasn’t the type to sit silently and worship the very ground he walked on (unlike so many of his club hook-ups) so he was going to have to not only deal with the backlash in his sudden change of single status but also worry about just what Harry might do or say to embarrass him. And something in those poisonous green eyes told him that the little menace would take great joy in doing just that.

The British wizard had already been driving him to distraction with his irritatingly aloof behavior. It was one thing for Sebastian to be cold and haughty it was expected….he was a Symthe; a rather handsome, promiscuous, rich one at that. He was used to having people clamor for his attention and bend over backwards to soothe his ire. Unfortunately, Harry seemed to have missed that memo; as the teen didn’t even seem to notice that Sebastian was ignoring him.

Which considering just how hard it was for Sebastian to continue doing so was more than a little infuriating….did the wizard not feel the undeniable tension that was pulling at them? It was like a taut, stretched out elastic band that grated against Sebastian’s very being, begging him to give up his pride and move closer to Harry. It was only years of denial (regarding basically everything in his life) that kept Sebastian from caving to the pressure and dragging the wizard to him so that he could coax those infuriatingly perfect lips into doing something other than remaining silent. How was it that Harry was not suffering these intrusive foreign compulsions like he was? The stupid wizard didn’t even seem to be aware of the monumental effort Sebastian was exerting to keep his annoyed glare in place.

Hell, instead of shifting uncomfortably and trying to make polite conversation (which was the expected reaction to the Symthe cold shoulder) Harry had shrugged and pulled out his book in the airport…and THEN he had proceeded in reading it of all things! (And okay, Sebastian had to fight his instinctive excitement in seeing Harry pull out a book that just happened to be one of his favorites). But getting back on track…his _husband’s_ (and didn’t that word just make Sebastian want to smash something…preferably said husband’s nose) complete ignorance at Sebastian’s disdain for him was beyond aggravating.

At the moment the only person that surpassed Harry on Sebastian’s ‘enemy number one’ list was Hummel…and only because Harry actually happened to be extremely nice to look at and Sebastian still couldn’t resist a pretty face…or ass…

Sebastian pulled himself out of his mental tirade in time to stomp out of the chauffeured car his father had sent to pick them up (and wasn’t that just typical?) ignoring the fact that he should probably play the good little host and show his new spouse around the huge, waste of space that was the Symthe residence. He did catch the smug little smirk that Harry sent him at his action which just made him all the more pissy.

Pissy enough that he failed to greet Jenna (the one household staff that he actually adored) instead marching right past her—which of course she didn’t stand for.

“Stop right there young man!” she demanded, and there was no arguing with that tone—the tone that stated he was in for a harsh scolding. She was the one person whose disappointment and reprimanding words actually registered with him.

He slowed his pace and sighed in resignation, reluctantly turning around to face her disapproving frown, “Is that anyway to greet your favorite girl?” she asked cocking one of her eyebrows as though challenging him to give a sarcastic retort.

“No…Jen. I’m sorry, it was a long flight…” he stated before moving forward to give her a quick hug and peck one of her wrinkled cheeks, “Sorry…how are you?”

“That’s better…I’m good, now what’s this I hear about you getting yourself married?” She graciously accepted the hug before drawing back to get a good look at him, her eyes full of question.

“Not married…bonded actually” an accented voice interrupted them, “sorry to interrupt… I’m Harry Potter by the way….Sebastian’s…er bonded” Harry stepped forward having entered the massive house with his lone satchel. Sebastian gritted his teeth at the charming smile he sent Jenna and the delighted (if not surprised one) she returned.

She leaned forward to whisper to Sebastian before moving towards Harry, “I approve he is very cute Seb”.

“Pleasure is all mine dear. I’m Jenna, I work for Sebastian’s dad…practically raised this fool. Not that you would know it by the way he acts most of the time” she stated giving Sebastian a fond swat before extending her hand to Harry.

Harry sent Sebastian a sly grin and he wanted to crawl into a small hole possibly never come out…of course Jenna would regale the irritating twat with embarrassing antidotes if he didn’t stop her.

“Nice to meet you” Harry stated and of course kissed the proffered hand, which just made Jenna smile wider and Sebastian roll his eyes.

“Come on” he bit out grabbing Harry roughly by the elbow and pulling him towards the rather ostentatious staircase that led from the greeting hall to the upper levels of the mansion, “I’ll show you were you’ll be staying”

Harry yanked his arm out of Sebastian’s grip but followed anyway, “Oh…how kind of you” he replied his voice dripping with sarcasm. Sebastian stubbornly pushed away the overcharged tingling that had just arced up his arm from where he had grabbed Harry’s arm….once again the stupid twit seemed unaware of the sensation.

Scowling to himself Sebastian didn’t bother to retort instead leading Harry down the plush carpeted hall to one of the guest bedrooms—well, Harry’s room now he supposed. “Here’s your room” he stated pushing open the double door to reveal the spacious and lavishly decorated room behind (like every other room in this horrid place).

“What are we not rooming together... _darling_?” Harry asked his face the perfect picture of innocence though Sebastian did not miss the glint in his eyes.

“No” Sebastian retorted shortly just wanting to get away from the annoying teen and his teasing manners and compulsive pull.

“Aww…I’m hurt. I suppose I will just have to live with my heartbreak and loneliness” Harry cried in an overly dramatic fashion throwing himself back across the plush four poster bed, “however am I to survive?”

Sebastian tried really hard not to react to the sight of the green eyed teen basically sprawled back against the bed…really he thought he deserved some accolades because the memory of what happened the last time he had the boy in front of him sprawled out across a bed were far, far to fresh…and hey, he was only human.

Not wanting Harry to know just how much he was affecting him, Sebastian snorted and replied in his own sarcastic manner, “I’m sure you will be just fine…not like you have anything to offer that would keep someone around anyway”

Instead of the snappy retort that he was expecting, there was a long silence before Harry sat up grabbing his bag so that his face wasn’t facing Sebastian, “no I suppose not…well if that is all? Like you said it was a long flight”

Sebastian started in surprise at the subdued reply, feeling a brief surge of guilt at finally having managed to get a response out of the teen that wasn’t witty and bright but quickly pushed it away stepping out of the room closing the door behind him.

He paused for a moment, almost giving in to the urge and going back in and apologizing for being an ass (not only for just now but since he had met the teen) but stopped himself before he did. It wasn’t his fault that Harry was being oversensitive….

No, he wasn’t about to change who he was just to make it easier for his husband….he wouldn’t be Sebastian Symthe if he did that. And so what if the little annoying voice in his head whispered to him that had he changed his behavior before, he might not have alienated Blaine like he did, or crashed his father’s Ferrari or done a number of inherently stupid things….

But then again since when did he ever listen to that voice?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *1984: utopian novel heavily laced with social criticism: In George Orwell's 1984, Winston Smith wrestles with oppression in Oceania, a place where the Party scrutinizes human actions with ever-watchful Big Brother. Defying a ban on individuality, Winston dares to express his thoughts in a diary and pursues a relationship with Julia. These criminal deeds bring Winston into the eye of the opposition, who then must reform the nonconformist. George Orwell's 1984 introduced the watchwords for life without freedom: BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU (description taking from cliffnotes.com)   
> **all descriptions of English and Ohioan scenery is taken solely from my mind and what little I have read, sorry if they are inaccurate! Distances/times were taken from google maps ;)


	4. August is over

* * *

 

_Say a prayer_

_The summer nights are dead_

_The fall is coming_

_We were careless hearts_

_Who got caught up in this_

_Breathe in deep_

_Before I say I can feel us slip away_

_You're almost gone You're good as gone_

_August is over_

* * *

 

**_August—(end of):_ **

The last few weeks had passed with barely minimum contact with his ‘husband’. He knew that Jenna disproved of his behavior towards the English teen, but he couldn’t help it. Ok, another big fat lie for Sebastian Symthe… he _could_ help it but he just didn’t _want_ to.

Harry had continued to serve his cold behavior back to him in spades and it was driving Sebastian crazy, especially since the English wizard seemed to be perfectly friendly and well behaved to everyone else (of course it did not help matters when Sebastian found his thoughts continually drawn back to the dark haired male…honestly he was starting to become a little worried about it, he generally thought himself above the obsessive stalker type). And okay, so the ‘everyone’ Sebastian was referring to was a bit of an exaggeration considering Harry hadn’t exactly met that many other people since their arrival outside Jenna and Sebastian’s father but still…

Sebastian had been thrilled (and note that this is said dripping with sarcasm) when he saw his father’s Cadillac pull into the drive, while he knew that his father had planned on returning to Westerville before the boys left for Dalton, it was still somewhat of a surprise that he had actually made it. It was a rare thing for Anthony Symthe to say he’d do something and then actually follow through (at least in terms of promises made to his son that is).

It was generally a well known fact (at least within the Symthe family and staff) that Sebastian and his father did not get along. Now, you might think that this is stating the obvious; since it should be clear to anyone who was not a complete moron or blind to what was in front of them, that the Symthe men lived under barely civil exchanges of cold mistrust and disdain for each other. In truth their relationship was like one big sad cliché.

Sebastian’s father disproved of how his son acted the majority of the time but did not have the time or the desire to sit down and understand just why his son acted out in the way that he did. Instead he preferred to be the same father to Sebastian as Anthony’s own father was to him; aloof and distant. He gifted the boy with multitudes of material possessions but with minimal emotional ones. He might disprove of his son’s behavior but he figured that Sebastian was a young man and as such needed to sow his ‘wild oats’ and all that….he would let him do as he pleased and even bail him out when matters got out of hand, but he would not acknowledge his son otherwise. Sebastian for his part saw only that his father did not care what he did and did not pay him attention whether he was good or bad so chose to act out as much as he could. He figured that since his father ignored him he might as well get the validation and attention he so desired elsewhere…and well there was nothing more validating then having someone on their knees, sucking you off— in Sebastian’s opinion anyway.

In a way Sebastian was actually relieved that his father had kept his word and shown up, not only because he figured that one more person in the huge, practically empty house might help diffuse the tension that had been running high since their arrival in Ohio, but it meant that Harry would not get front row seats to just how good the Smyth’s parenting skills really were (if there was one thing that Sebastian did not wish to make common knowledge, it was just how absent his parents truly were in his life and that this absence was not actually something that Sebastian truly desired. Since his father had promised to come home in front of Harry, Sebastian for once was happy he would not have to come up with a plausible excuse as to why Anthony failed to turn up after all).

But back to a certain green eyed male’s annoying friendliness with everyone except himself (and it wasn’t as though Sebastian was totally deserving of the cold shoulder…okay, so maybe he was…just a little bit). The fact that Jenna and Harry seemed as thick as thieves these days was enough to make Sebastian rue the day he had set eyes on the teen and that wasn’t even taking into account just how much his father seemed to adore Harry.

Of course it wasn’t like he had actually had an actual conversation with said father since he arrived yesterday, so he couldn’t be sure about his father’s true feelings on the matter, as his father was a taciturn politician and pretended to like more people then he actually did. So, really his father might actually hate his new husband and was only pretending to like him because of some political angle but Sebastian didn’t think that it was the case.

He saw the admiration in his father’s eyes…admiration that was most decidedly absent when he looked at his own son. This was not suppose to be how things went…his father’s disdain and disappointment in Sebastian was suppose to transfer to his husband as well. It was only fair that someone else share in the cold indifference that Sebastian was so used to (and to think his father was actually the warmer and more caring of his two parents). So the fact that this did not seem to be the case only added to his list of reasons why he couldn’t stand Harry…..and he couldn’t damn it!-- he did not care that his instincts were trying to force him to think and feel differently!

Only adding to his determination to hate the wizard was the fact that Harry had practically waltzed in and stolen his only ally. Jenna had always been there for him through thick and thin, through his parent’s divorce and custody battle (and before you think that -at least his parents loved him enough to fight over who had custody of him, Sebastian had quickly learned it had very little to do with him and much more to do with him being just another pawn of power in their battle against each other-- like the Porsche, only less valuable).

Even when he had turned into what others might call a ‘shithead’ she had his back, she was the person he had gone to when he realized what a huge mess of things he had made after the slushy incident. She had listened and held her judgment knowing that he already knew how badly he screwed up. She hadn’t said anything when he had run off to London for the summer to get away from it all, knowing that it was his decision and mistake to make.

And now when he needed her as a sounding board to listen to his complaints and frustrations over his new stubborn ass husband, said stubborn ass husband had won her over--effectively stealing away his one source that he could vent to.

He was starting to really, really hate Harry Potter.

It was during one of these self pity parties that he had been throwing for himself more and more often (aka: Sebastian + copious amounts of alcohol+ sad depressing/sad angry music blasting at inhuman levels) that Jenna had tracked him down.

He didn’t even hear his bedroom door slam open (given the level he had the stereo going)-- it wasn’t until Jenna had stomped her way over to said stereo and hit the off button that he noticed her presence.

“What the hell?!” he cried not believing that she had just invaded his space and taken away his source of distraction (not that it was really doing its job considering he had still spent most of the time up here ruminating on one Harry James Potter—though perhaps this was a small positive because was a change from his previous ruminating on one Blaine Anderson…hmmm…maybe he needed to rethink his whole stance on not being an obsessive person….).

Jenna didn’t even look remorseful, her wrinkled face creasing more than normal as she pursed her lips in disproval, “What do you think you are doing?” she asked completely ignoring his outrage.

“What does it look like?” he snapped back petulantly.

Jenna made a tsking noise and walked over to where he was sprawled across his bed, giving him a light smack to the crown of his skull.

“Ow! What the fuck!” Sebastian shouted jerking away from her into a sitting position, now watching her warily incase she decided that he needed another swat.

“What is the matter with you Sebastian? I taught you better than this…you are acting like a child sitting up here all day pouting” she stated her arms crossed.

And while her words brought the intended wave of shame to Sebastian, he was still a Symthe and was not about to show it. “So?” he asked sullenly.

“You are being very rude. This is not how I taught you to treat a guest….and considering you actually married this guest I would have thought you would make at least a small effort in getting to know him….” She stated still glaring at Sebastian, “did you know that he has asked about you every day since he’s arrived? What you were like a child? What you’re interests are? Where you’ve travelled?”

Sebastian started in surprise. He couldn’t help feel a small amount of pleasure at the thought that Harry actually cared enough to find out things about him, along with an equal amount of guilt at not doing the same. How was he supposed to know? The teen always acted so cold and aloof when he was around, like he couldn’t care less that Sebastian was in the same room as him. That irritating voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he had been acting the same way towards Harry, and had given his husband no reason to open up or try and approach him, but Sebastian quickly batted it away.

So what if his husband had asked a few questions? It didn’t mean anything…..right?

“What am I suppose to do about it? he---he’s infuriating, I can’t stand spending time with him. Any time we are in the room together for longer than a few minutes I want to throw something….It’s better for both of us if I just avoid him” Sebastian replied his frustration clearly showing.

“Do you really think that?” Jenna asked.

Sebastian just scowled because he wasn’t about to answer that. Say yes and she would just be more disappointed in him, say no and she would be smug at being right….again.

“You are going to take him out shopping, so get dressed” She stated matter of fact, already sorting through Sebastian’s copious amount of clothes and throwing a long sleeved, black button up and pair of jeans at him. When he didn’t move she increased the severity of her glare, “now!” she barked causing him to spring into action. He might be in a mood at the moment but he wasn’t suicidal.

“Why?” he asked after he had managed to change as requested, sitting down to pull on a pair of socks. He didn’t see why he should have to take the idiot out shopping surely he was old enough to do it himself.

“Because I said so…he has never been to Ohio, much less America…our stores and malls are quite different from what I am sure he is used too…plus he barely came over with anything. You can’t honestly tell me that you would allow him to go to Dalton with three pairs of jeans and four shirts in total” She stated.

Sebastian sighed, he wanted to argue but what she said was true. There was no way he would allow Harry to enter the rich-boy prep school, with that lacking of a wardrobe; especially since (like it or not) Harry was now his husband and his appearance would reflect back on Sebastian’s. It was rather odd that the wizard had so little in the way of material possessions considering how loaded he supposedly was (again according to what his dad had told him back in England). Maybe he was just cheap?

He shrugged, it didn’t really matter one way or another he would get Harry to expand his wardrobe…and maybe just maybe Sebastian was looking a little bit forward to getting his husband into a few pairs of incredibly tight jeans….

He was still human after all.

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Had anyone told Harry that he would find himself spending his first summer following his triumphant defeat of arguably the most powerful dark lord in several centuries, trailing after his annoyingly conceited and ill mannered squib of a husband (through a mass of even more annoying and irritating obese, whiny, American muggle teenagers) he would have thought that he could possibly attempt and succeed this time around with that nifty little crucio curse. Fate was a cruel little mistress indeed.

Harry dodged out of the way of one such teenager (who reminded him of Dudley, pre-boxing years), barely managing to avoid getting whatever disgustingly innutritious beverage the waddling preteen was holding spilt all over him. “Remind me again….exactly _why_ are we here and what we are trying to accomplish?” he asked (and no, it was not for the first time that he voiced this question—and likely wouldn’t be for the last time either).

“Because Jenna reminded me that you have the wardrobe of a poor Steve Urkel and I refuse to be associated with you when you look like that” Sebastian stated calmly gesturing his hand to basically all of Harry’s person.

Harry glared at the taller teens back, annoyed by the fact that Sebastian somehow was managing to dodge out of the way of the smelly herds without breaking a sweat. Honestly, he didn’t know who this Steve person was but he was sure that his clothes weren’t THAT bad…well…yes, all except one or two pairs of pants he owned were a little short and maybe the glasses he still wore from time to time weren’t the most fashionable…but they weren’t as bad as Sebastian was making them sound (well judging from his tone—then again Sebastian always spoke to him in that tone, so maybe he meant it in a complimentary fashion?).

“Whatever” he muttered under his breath---what? he had never been overly gifted in cutting comebacks…that had always been more of Draco’s thing. But give him a wand dammit….

Harry pretended not to see Sebastian sneer and role his eyes as his ‘husband’ came to a stop in front of a rather expensive (well given that what Harry normally wore) and preppy looking store; ’J.Crew’ apparently. Not that Harry was overly surprised, given the clothing that he had seen Sebastian wear at home; this place seemed right up Sebastian’s alley. Of course he was resolutely ignoring the fact that he had spent a fair amount of time admiring just how those clothes looked on said husband…..anyhow moving on.

Figuring that if he just bit his tongue and did as told that they would get out of this hellhole (that was an American shopping mall) he tried to keep his unhappy scowl to a minimum. It wasn’t as though he didn’t like nice things (such as clothes that fit); he simply wasn’t used to them…and as much as he had always vowed to spend his money on himself once he escaped the Dursley’s loving care, old habits were hard to break and all that rot….

Thirty minutes later, Harry had to concede that Sebastian not only had good taste and but alsp had an eye for selecting clothes that suited one’s physique. Not that he didn’t still put up the token complaints as he tried on the various pairs of jeans, wool trousers, shirts—both tees and long sleeve button ups, and more sweaters then he ever thought one could possibly wear. When he tried to complain about the last—because really who the hell needs a Lambswool birdseye cardingan? (And wasn’t that a mouthful and a half). Sebastian simply told him unless he wanted to freeze his arse off when November hit, to shut the hell up. Which he did because of course he had done the research and KNEW that Ohio got a tad bit more nippy then England during the winter, but it was a little hard to know what -15C (5F) felt like when Scotland rarely below 5C (38F). Either way they bought most of the sweaters (plus a few jackets) that he tried on.

After several more stores and quite a few hours later (including a visit to an optometrist who looked like Harry had killed his favorite puppy and stole the last bagel when he saw the glasses that up until today Harry had been wearing…well, whenever he was lazy and didn’t feel like wearing contacts that is), Harry was so loaded down with bags (and that was after they had made a few trips to drop off packages to Sebastian’s car) that he finally put his foot down. Thankfully, it seemed that Sebastian agreed that he should be set at least for a little while and conceded that they could leave.

If there was anything that Harry could deem successful about the day, it was the fact that they had spent several hours in each other’s company (while not intoxicated) and had managed to remain fairly civil (well, if you could disregard the rather tense moment in which Sebastian had started to delve into just why Harry had so little belongings considering his net worth-- he might have gotten a little defensive when the other teen seemed as though he was not going to drop it).

However, given how tense things had been the entire week, Harry for one deemed this nothing short of a miracle. Not wanting to push his luck on the whole civil thing he decided silence was probably the best option for the drive home (they had of course had to drive to Columbus for the shopping trip as Sebastian stated that there was no way Harry could find suitable attire amongst the stores that Westerville had to offer). He couldn’t help but notice that the annoying anxious feeling he had been experiencing the majority of the week had all but disappeared after spending time in close proximity to Sebastian….it was a coincidence he stubbornly told himself……

All in all Harry was rather relieved to see the house…cough mansion…pull into sight. Not bothering to wait for Sebastian to offer assistance (come on he was trying to be optimistic, not delusional) Harry shrunk the many, many packages down and took them inside. It appeared that Symthe Sr. was not yet home given the silence that Harry entered into—then again he might very well be home and just locked away in his study. Harry couldn’t help but notice how very little time Mr. Symthe seemed to spend with Sebastian.

Oh, he knew that the other boy tried to hide this fact...but given how Harry had grown up; trying to avoid his family at all costs, he recognized the behavior. Still, it wasn’t his business so he didn’t question it. He somehow doubted that Sebastian would react well to that conversation.

Harry sighed tiredly when he finally reached his room, shutting the door behind him…oddly enough he found that he was completely exhausted by the entire shopping trip (which was rather embarrassing given the fact that he had made sure to train fairly hard on a daily basis—even after the war was over. Now that he actually got enough food to sustain more than an anorexic mouse, he had found that he actually enjoyed pushing his body physically; not to mention it kept him from getting bored, which was a large danger considering he didn’t exactly have a whole lot of people to talk to here in Ohio).

Glancing at the clock he was surprised to see how late it actually was…they had somehow managed to eat up the entire day with this trip. He knew that he should probably get changed into some of the new clothes that he had bought considering dinner would be in less than an hour’s time. If there was one thing that he had learned, it was that Symthe Sr. didn’t appreciate being kept waiting.

While he hardly saw the man outside of the nightly dinners (and not surprisingly they were rather more formal then any evening meal he had ever had at the Dursley’s…then again it wasn’t as though he had been allowed an evening meal at the Dursley’s all that often) he discovered it was one event that actually brought both Symthe men into the same room.

Harry had just pulled off his tee shirt and was searching for the appropriate dress shirt when he was interrupted by Sebastian barging into his room unannounced. Now normally this wouldn’t have mattered, (well outside of simply irritating Harry at his husband’s lack of manners) but unfortunately Harry was shirtless and that changed everything.

It wasn’t as though either boy had not seen each other naked before (because hello?!—night that had gotten them into this whole situation to begin with), but the major difference now was that they were not completely shit faced. And because they were both in their right minds, Sebastian was a lot more observant and Harry a lot more paranoid.

Sebastian’s sudden entry caused Harry to shoot up from where he had been digging through the various bags and turn around as fast as he could. An instinct to hide his back. Sebastian not being stupid- took in this reaction and could not help but wonder what the hell had caused it.

“S-Sebastian….don’t you know how to knock?” Harry managed to infuse the last part of his sentence with his usual anger and annoyance. Unfortunately his nervous startlement was not successfully hid from the other boy.

“Harry” Sebastian stated slowly, moving stealthily towards where the green eyed wizard was practically pressed back against the wardrobe. Harry watched his progress warily trying to think of how to get Sebastian out of the room as quickly as possible.

“I just came up to tell you that father won’t be here for dinner tonight…and you can just grab something from the kitchen whenever” Sebastian stated not halting his progress.

“O-okay, that’s fine” Harry stated backing away even more, although it was minimal considering he was already almost pressed against the wardrobe, “if that is all?” he added when it appeared that Sebastian was not leaving but coming closer.

And he was correct, instead of stopping and leaving (like a normal, rationale and polite individual might) Sebastian moved forward in a startling fast motion. Instinctually Harry dropped to the ground and covered his head—immediately after he had done it he wanted to smack himself.

He wasn’t sure what he expected from Sebastian when he looked up again but he hadn’t expected to see that Sebastian had taken a step back, his body now rigidly straight with a look of concern/horror on his face.

Shit! In dropping to the ground like he had, the belt scars on his back were clearly visible from where Sebastian was standing. Dammit! How was he supposed to explain them? It wasn’t as though he normally went out of his way to hide them (they had been the result of him accidently dropping Aunt Petunia’s crystal wine decanter and it shattering; of course he had just happened to do so on a day when Uncle Vernon was both home and in a horrible mood)-- it was simply the fact that it was over and done with and he saw no sense in dwelling on them.

And he KNEW when others found out about them—and by extension his previous home life, they were always very keen on dwelling, and discussing and hugging it out. While he appreciated the fact that they cared and what not—it was a little late for that sentiment. It wasn’t as though their tears and hugs were going to change the fact.

And if he was going to be completely honest, he hated how they looked at him after finding out—with a mixture of pity and concern. It was as if the scars changed him from Harry-the friend, brother, boyfriend etc to Harry-the victim. And frankly he didn’t want or need that.

“Harry” Sebastian stated again seeming to draw his eyes away from the faded marks, “…what are those?” he asked his voice deceptively calm—something that just caused Harry further worry (he knew how to handle Ron’s explosive anger or Hermione’s teary break down, but the calm silence coming from Sebastian?…not so much).

“Nothing” Harry stated snatching the tee-shirt he had discarded earlier from the floor and jamming it on hurriedly.

Sebastian shot him an indecipherable look, “nothing?” he asked his tone skeptical.

“Yes, nothing. That’s what I said” Harry answered back crossing his arms across his chest. He refused to talk about THIS with HIM…honestly he probably would have been more comfortable talking about this with Voldemort then Sebastian. At least Voldemort had shared in a similar upbringing.

When it was clear that the green eyed teen wasn’t going to say another word Sebastian decided that he would. “Harry….were you…” he paused a moment and swallowed before forging on, “were you abused?”

Harry wanted to snarl at the question. He hated that word. It was such an ugly word…and one that he was sure did not really apply to him. Oh, he knew that he hadn’t been exactly cared or loved for during his stay at the Dursley’s; their comments, the lack of food, the high amount of chores he was given and his room were enough to tell him that. But he wouldn’t necessarily label himself abused. While yes, he had the belt scars…that had really been the only time that he had been physically punished (he didn’t count Dudley’s harry hunting games). His magic had lashed out and scared his relatives enough that they never tried to lay a hand on him again.**(please read end note!). But in his mind he didn’t see it as abuse necessarily…

He shook his head to stop his mind from continuing on with such thoughts…it was over and done with; it didn’t matter anymore, it shouldn’t affect him anymore.

“Why the hell would you care?” Harry snapped back, filled suddenly with a righteous fury at the boy in front of him. How dare he stand there and ask such personal things of Harry after weeks of ignoring and belittling him. What right did he have to know anything? None.

“I..” Sebastian seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say, shifting in an almost nervous fashion. It simply made Harry angrier. This was what he was talking about!, as soon as people saw the marks they changed their behavior around him!

“It’s none of your goddamn business! Why should I tell you anything? If you finally decided to be a human being and ask something about your ‘ _husband_ ’” he said the word filling it with contempt, “…then I suggest on trying again; how about starting with…oh, I don’t know…what’s your favorite colour Harry? Or how about a middle name?”

And while he knew he was lashing out and acting defensive, he couldn’t help it. He just wanted to be alone…away from this horrid little lonely town, back with his friends who knew him and understood not to ask certain things…

The tone and glare that he sent Sebastian finally did what he wanted them too, caused Sebastian to strike back (figuratively speaking). “Fine! Whatever, Screw it… I don’t care” Sebastian snapped back at him moving away and in the direction of the door. “Suit yourself. Obviously you want to be alone. Wish granted” he snarled before walking out and slamming the door behind him.

Harry sagged to the floor after hearing the door slam. Dammit…this was a good thing-- he wanted to be alone…he had practically shoved the other teen out of the door, for fuck sake.

So why did he want to go and run after him?     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song artist and song: Kings of Leon; August is over  
> **I just wanted to state that I am perfectly aware (as is Harry deep down) that what I described here is indeed abuse. However this is Harry’s thoughts and it is his own way of coping to deny or try and convince himself otherwise. It should be fairly obvious that as much he wants to just move on and leave these things behind, that he has yet to deal with them and allow himself to truly move on. Also I should mention just because Harry believes people will see him as a victim or weak because of his past I am in no way saying that people who have been abused (or watched a loved one abused) are weak. This is simply Harry’s fear—not my shared belief!!! This is not meant to offend or upset anyone!


	5. Alone, Together

* * *

 

_I’ll check in tomorrow_

_If I don’t wind up dead_

_This is the road to ruin_

_And we’re standing at the end_

* * *

 

**_September_ **

Some people might call Sebastian’s behavior self destructive…and well, maybe they were right. Not that it really mattered either way because Sebastian was perfectly content to over-react and lash out whenever he was left feeling vulnerable or confused. He didn’t need anyone else to help him feel happy and fulfilled—well, at least that was what he told himself every time he did something that might be labeled as ‘acting out’.

It was the same reasoning that had led Sebastian to grabbing his car keys and driving to the only bloody gay bar within an hour’s distance after Harry basically threw him out of the green eyed wizard’s room. He knew that he was being slightly irrational for taking the other teen’s anger and dismissal so personally…he had after all being prying into something that the teen obviously didn’t want to talk about. But he couldn’t help it…

That’s what he got for trying to act the part of the understanding and sensitive husband (and it was an act! He did not care about Harry! He didn’t…) that he evidently was not. And perhaps if he had calmed down and actually thought about what had happened, he might have realized that confronting Harry about his past could have been handled better. He had just been so shocked to see the marks, and maybe he was feeling a little bit guilty over the fact that he couldn’t recall having seen them before. He had friggen slept with the man after all—you would think that he would remember seeing the long slashes. And what had caused those kind of crisscrossed marks? If he had to guess, he would say a belt but then again he wasn’t exactly an expert on such things.

He hated the teen for those marks, not because it was Harry’s fault for obviously having had a horrid childhood and past, but because it made it so much harder to despise the wizard. It would be so much easier to mock him for his poor clothing choices and odd behavior (and yes, he had noticed how Harry seemed to eat as quickly as humanly possible and shy away from even the most basic human touches) had such things not been the result of such an upbringing—and really one had to be stupid not to think that they were. He hated him for the bringing such foreign feelings in Sebastian…he had, had to literally restrain himself from reaching out for the teen and trying to comfort him. And what the fuck was that about! He did not do the whole comfort thing…that was most definitely not who he was!

There was also the smallest little part of Sebastian that felt slightly hurt over the wizards secrecy—and wasn’t that ridiculous? He knew he had zero right to demand or even think that Harry would confide in him of all people…but it didn’t stop Sebastian from feeling somehow betrayed over the fact. They were married after all.

And so in yet another moment of hurt confusion, Sebastian made what could only be called another poor decision…he went out to get laid. While this might not surprise most, Sebastian had actually been reigning himself in since the surprise ‘ops your bonded’ night. It was almost as though his inner conscious had made the decision to try and remain faithful to his new husband (not that he was actually getting any from said husband, leading him to feel incredibly sexually frustrated). This decision of course was smashed in to smithereens only a few weeks after their bonding.

Ah well….it wasn’t like it was going to work out between them anyway; their marriage really was just a farce, so why the hell should he care whether or not he was technically cheating?

He resolutely ignored the little voice in his head that told him that he might actually be able to prove himself to someone for a change. To earn an ounce of respect and maybe even forge a semi-healthy relationship for once in his life. Yeah, that voice had always been a downer—definitely best to shut it up with several shots of alcohol.

He found himself looking around the sad little bar with something akin to disgust. After having spent the majority of his summer in-between London and France, this backwater bar was truly disappointing. Still….he was sort of desperate at the moment to take his mind off of things—not to mention he didn’t think he had ever gone so long without sleeping with someone before. So, this needed to happen.

He eventually caught the eye of some no-doubt-seriously-in-denial-college boy who was sitting uncomfortably at the bar, shifting and blushing every few minutes. Perfect. If Sebastian had to guess (and he was usually right about these kinds of things) he would say that the boy was still in or just barely out of the closest. Most likely he had just recently admitted to himself that he was in fact leaning towards the other team and decided to come here out of curiosity. Without a doubt none of the boy’s family or friends would have any clue that he was here (probably told them he was staying home to study or some such bullshit).

These types always made for an easy lay. They were curious enough that they were willing to actually do something about it, but not so sure of themselves that they actually wanted to see you ever again. Sebastian walked confidently up to the bar and ordered another beer (not his favorite, but hey it was small town Ohio…limited choices and all) eying the kid beside him discretely.

He was cute, in a sort of boy next door kind of way. Sebastian couldn’t help but feel like he was missing a certain edginess though…but still good enough for what he had in mind. Sebastian sent him a confidant smile before extending his hand, “Sebastian….you are?”

The boy as expected blushed and looked down at his drink before replying, “Jordan”

They spent the next hour or so exchanging simple, surface information (basically fake on Sebastian’s end and boring on Jordon’s). He learned that Jordan 22 years old and was in his third year of college, which was paid for by a football scholarship (how typical). Jordan was here visiting family and would be leaving by the weekend. Quite a few drinks later it was obvious that Jordan was feeling much more relaxed and confidant, but even so, Sebastian couldn’t help but be surprised that the blond haired boy was the one to stand up and lead Sebastian back towards the bathroom, instead of vice versa. Huh…maybe he hadn’t been quite as accurate on his initial assessment of the other after all.

The make-out session and blow job that followed were painfully sloppy and all together unsatisfying and Sebastian really had no qualms about pushing the boy back and leaving without a word. He had seen that hopeful glimmer in Jordon’s too blue eyes that only spoke of problems to come; it was best to leave before it came to that, not to mention he couldn’t get rid of the almost painful clenching in his gut that he had been experiencing from the moment he sat down beside the blond and started flirting….as though his own body was against him doing what he had just done.

Slightly drunk and completely frustrated, Sebastian stumbled slightly entering the house. It was only after he entered the house that he realized that the front light had been on when he pulled up—which was rather odd as it was now around two in the morning and generally Jenna and his father didn’t bother with such things (as half the time he didn’t bother to make it home until the next morning).

He found himself coming to a standstill when he caught sight of the sitting room couch. That wasn’t….was it? He moved closer, moving as quietly as he could and realized that yes…yes it was his husband’s form curled up on one end of the divan. He stood there for a full minute simply watching the slow and steady rise and fall of Harry’s breaths.

Harry looked so small and vulnerable curled into himself like that, it was kind of unnerving. Normally when the wizard was awake, he was so cocky and self assured…he moved and spoke like a fighter; always waiting for the next attack…but now…

He wasn’t sure what to think at that moment, it was almost as though Harry had been there waiting for him to return…he really wasn’t ready to know how he felt about that. Shaking his head to clear it of its confused thoughts Sebastian did the only thing he could think of in that minute….

He ran upstairs and shut his door soundly behind him.

\------------00---------------------------------------

How could he have been so stupid? Honestly, he had thought that he had moved past the point where he did and thought and most importantly _felt_ stupid things. He thought that when Voldemort had literally turned to ash under his wand, that it was a new beginning, a chance for him to begin again…to leave behind his annoying self sacrificing ways and self doubt and rise anew from those ashes. Like a phoenix…or something equally as awe inspiring and majestic (ok, he could safely mark off poet or writer for career choice). Well, apparently that belief had been about as stupid and naïve as it sounded….because once again he was playing the fool.

What on earth had possessed him to want to track down that arrogant ass-hat and apologize for his earlier outburst? To actually do something as lame as sitting down on the couch and waiting for him? (the falling asleep while doing so only compounded how ridiculous and foolish he was). He was seriously starting to think Voldemort had a point with the whole emotions-make-you weak diatribe…ok, so he wasn’t so far gone to _actually_ think that anything Voldemort believed was a good idea but right at this very moment he couldn’t help but wonder if somewhere deep, deep down the snake faced lunatic had a point.

Merlin did he feel like a chump (and yes he did dig out his 1950’s vocabulary for that one) for waiting around like a good little house wife while his ‘husband’ (and trust him, that word was said with the utmost disdain) went out and slept around. Really, it shouldn’t surprise, much less hurt him at the idea…nowhere in there tense association with each other had they ever sat down and said that they would actually be faithful to each other and their bond. And considering just how the bond occurred Harry felt even lamer for harboring some lofty idea that Sebastian might actually care enough to try and make this work between them. It didn’t stop the nonsensical hurt that he was currently experiencing however. He had truly hoped that despite everything that Sebastian might at least try….

Because despite how their bond occurred, for Harry it was the exception….he wasn’t the type to normally go out and sleep around, the occasions in which he had done so could easily be counted on one hand…it was rather on par with his life that one of the few times he had actually done so, he ended up bonded to the asshole. Such was his life.

Well, fool him once etc etc….never again. No, whatever stupid childish hope he had still somehow managed to hold onto about this marriage, had officially been stomped into itty bitty smithereens. He couldn’t be angry at Sebastian…it was his own stupidity that had led to the sharp stabbing sensation he got when thinking about Sebastian picking some stranger up at a bar and sleeping with them, but at the same time he would be damned if he let the prick know that. He would treat this marriage like it was from here on out…a farce, a business deal at most.

He would simply avoid spending time with Sebastian if at all possible. After all, while it hurt to know that he was in a relationship with someone who could care less about him…that could go both ways. Sure, it wasn’t exactly in his nature not to care about someone…but he had managed before and he could do so again. Or at least he could make everyone believe that he did.

One thing was for sure, this would be the last time Sebastian Symthe ever made a fool of him. That was a promise.

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Harry couldn’t stop himself from looking around the sprawling grounds of Dalton with more than mild interest. He almost felt a brief stab of nostalgia when he took in the weathered stones just visible beneath the crawling ivy* that made up the school building’s exterior. Despite the impressive size of the Dalton grounds and buildings….it could never compare to having been boarded and educated in a honest to god castle, but still there was enough resemblance (a kind of an old world charm) to the place, that Harry was reminded of the magical castle.

He shook off the loneliness that was threatening to claw its way out of the tight little box that had, until now been largely sealed and ignored…right here and now was not the time to start double guessing his decisions and mourning his mistakes. He was no longer that angst-ridden teenager with the world on his shoulders; one year—no matter how uncomfortable or foreign it was—was not going to kill him. He needed to shake it off.

He shot a covert look over at Sebastian and felt a small wave of vindictive pleasure over the fact that the teen didn’t look any happier than him to be here. Well, it really wasn’t that huge of surprise, all things considered; especially from the few details he had managed to weasel out of Jenna over last year’s events. He didn’t know much, but what he did know was that Sebastian had not left the school in the best of light—and now he was forced to come back, and with a husband in tow no less. Yes, he could understand Sebastian’s reluctance.

Sebastian must of sensed his gaze (so much for being sneaky and covert…perhaps it was a good thing he had ended up in Gryffindor rather than Slytherin—he probably wouldn’t have lasted a day in the house that valued slyness above all) and quickly masked his surprise with a heated glare. One that Harry responded to with a cheeky smirk….this didn’t seem to help lighten the other teen’s mood at all. Well, screw him….and no he did not mean that literally.

Ever since the night Harry had woken up on the couch and had realized how foolish he had been acting, he had made a decent effort at completely ignoring Sebastian, and if ignoring him wasn’t possible he put his best effort into irritating him. While these actions certainly didn’t help clear the air in-between them, they at least brought Harry some amusement. Not to mention they helped distract him from the nonsensical ache that had seemed to imbed itself in his chest since he opened his eyes to just how little esteem Sebastian had for him—nonsensical because it really should not have been either a surprise or bothersome to the dark haired wizard; unfortunately it seemed to be both.

“Hurry up….unless you’d rather stand there looking like an imbecile” Sebastian snapped at him, turning away and picking up his pace. Harry only smiled more, “Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we dear? Can’t have me ruining your unblemished reputation after all” –and ok maybe the last part was a bit of a low blow…but come on! Sebastian had been trying his temper all morning with his waspish demands.

Symthe Sr. had left yesterday and so it was up to his _dear_ husband to take him to the main office and get his admission papers sorted—something that Symthe Jr. apparently resented; though whether it was because his father had dumped it on him without asking him or simply because it required him to spend more time with Harry then he wanted to—Harry didn’t know.

Any response Sebastian was going to give was prevented (or at least delayed) by their arrival at a set of glass pained doors. A large desk, piled high with papers was visible though the glass. The walls on either side were lined with an array of filing cabinets and potted plants—which partially blocked the rows and rows of faded pictures. Once again Harry was struck by the sheer ordinariness of this school—he hadn’t honestly stepped foot inside a muggle school since the age of ten (albeit Dalton was far nicer and more quaint then the muggle primary school he had attended back in Surrey), so to be back here surrounded by very muggle, un-magical/unmoving pictures and the likes, was a little unnerving.

Thankfully he had spent most of his spare time since having decided to come back with Sebastian (well when he wasn’t running out his frustrations or decimating and reparoing a pile of large boulders he had come across and used to keep his magical training in at least somewhat respectable shape) cramming his noggin with muggle subjects. So, he wasn’t exactly entering this situation completely blind and unprepared (that and up until the end of his sixth year he had always done Dudley’s homework for the big lump—who knew he would ever end up being thankful for his cousin’s laziness?) But still he couldn’t say that he was happy with having to go back to school once again—especially knowing that back home Ron and everyone were making career decisions and starting their adult lives (it didn’t matter that he had no idea what he wanted to do with his adult life! It was the principle of it).

Oh well, who knew maybe he would fall in love with Dalton and the muggle subjects that he was going to be thrown into. Maybe he would find the place that had been so absent since the end of the war in the wizarding world, in the muggle one instead. While Harry was rather doubtful of this…he wasn’t one to dismiss something out right.

“Mr. Symthe” a severe, bony looking woman said, her displeasure evident in the glare and iciness of her tone. Harry suppressed a shudder at how very much she reminded him of Aunt Petunia when she thought one of her begonia’s was looking wilted (regardless of the fact that it was bloody 35C above out with a water ban).

Harry watched with part amusement and part disgust as Sebastian sent the woman a warm, charming smile, “Ah…Ms. Havens, it’s been too long. You are looking lovely as ever”

Honestly Harry wanted to gag at the smarminess of Sebastian’s voice, there was no friggen way that anyone, much less a scary strict secretary could fall for such blatant ass kissing—but to his shock and horror Ms. Havens seemed to lap it up, her expression softening and what was probably her version of a kind smile spreading over her thin, wrinkled face. Harry barely stopped himself from gaping.

She sent Sebastian said smile (which in Harry’s opinion was more terrifying than Snape’s—not that he had actually ever seen his former teacher smile, but from what he could imagine…) “Shush you, now what are you two boys here for?”

Sebastian kept his own smile firmly in place before jerking Harry forward a tad more roughly then necessary—the wizard briefly entertained the thought of stomping on the ponces toes but restrained himself, “This is Harry Potter-Symthe..” he said the last name in a rush as though it could disguise the fact that the green eyed boy was indeed linked to him, “my father already talked to the headmaster about his enrolment as a senior this year?” he shifted looking uncomfortable before slumping slightly in resignation, “…also, I will be needing to change some information on my files…the last name…and my _marital status_ ”

Ms. Havens eyes widened briefly at this information before she was able to school her expression back to a professional one. “Of course….I might as well give you both your class schedules now as well…rather then you waiting for homeroom since you are already here….hmmm….let’s see” she trailed off flipping through one of the messy paper stacks to her left, “…ah here it is, oh! Good it looks as though the headmaster took the liberty of syncing your schedules”

Still preoccupied with her paper and entering the new data into the main system, she missed the twin looks of horror and unhappiness on the teens faces.

For Harry, he had been hoping to be able to meet and engage with his fellow classmates without dealing with his ass of a husband—most likely sneering and belittling him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be like his primary years all over again…only Sebastian taking the place of Dudley. No! he was being pessimistic again, he was definitely not the shy, scared pushover he had once been—not to mention ignoring Sebastian wouldn’t result in him getting locked in a cupboard at the end of the day either. Hmm…maybe he could even have a little fun if Sebastian chose to act like an asshole….Harry after all was very good at getting under peoples skins (just ask Draco).  

Half an hour later Harry found himself grudgingly following Sebastian down one of the annoyingly posh looking hallways (he much preferred the dusty, worn down halls of Hogwarts—because really, if anyone was naïve enough to think that Filch did more than the bare minimum, they clearly were in need of a visit to St. Mungo’s psychiatric ward) towards where he could only assume their dormitories lay. Symthe Sr. had arranged for them to share a dorm room—lucky him—and while normally students (or parents) weren’t allowed to make such demands, the fact that the two of them were technically married allowed for some leniency (well, that and the huge annual check Harry was sure Symthe Sr. wrote the Dalton trustees foundation).

On the way, they passed several groups, pairs and individually blazer clad students who did little to hide their blatantly curious stares as they watched Sebastian and the yet unknown green eyed male pass by. Harry seemed completely unaware—and in truth he was just vaguely cognizant of the attention they were garnering, though to be fair he was so used to being stared at (and by far larger crowds then this) that the increased attention really did not faze him in the least. Sebastian on the other hand found the stares both annoying and exceedingly uncomfortable though he did manage to hide his discomfort remarkably well behind his usual cocky smirk.

It helped that only about a quarter of the student body had arrived so far (the other quarter of students that bordered here during the year would likely trickle in throughout the afternoon as classes officially started tomorrow and the percentage that boarded at Dalton only had to be here before 5pm tonight to sign in and move into their assigned dorms, while the other half of Dalton’s students were day students so they wouldn’t be here until tomorrow) that and so far the students that were here were still too timid to approach Sebastian and voice their curiosity over the matter, but both boys knew that this tentative behavior would not last long.

Sebastian wasted little time in pushing the dorm room door open and tossing his bags down on the twin bed furthest from the door, he did not miss the relieved expression that flitted across Harry’s face at his bed choice but decided to ignore it for now, since confronting the wizard about it would only bring about another fight and he really was not in the mood at the moment-what with having returned to this hell hole and all. He sank back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling while trying to steal himself for the next day; when they would have no choice but to face his classmates and face the consequences of his previous words and actions. He truly was not looking forward to this.

Harry for his part ignored his husbands pensive mood and set about unpacking the excessive (in his opinion) amount of clothing from his suitcase as well as the texts their welcome letter had instructed them to get and the extra books he had brought for the hell of it. When he had finally put away and arranged his stuff to his liking, he snatched one of the books he had been wanting to read (a historical novel about the Jin (Jurcan) dynasty) and flopped down on his bed intent on making it past the introduction (it was written in Mandarin and although Harry had decided—on a whim of course—that he was going to teach himself several different languages, he found this endeavor exceedingly slow going—not that he was going to give up on it though, he could admit to being rather stubborn at times).

The relative peace that existed in the almost silent room did not last long however, being soon interrupted by an insistent knocking on the door.

“Sebastian! Hey Sebastian I know you’re in there Trent said he saw you arrive….come on quit being a prick and open the damn door” a rather hyper-I’ve-had-far-to-many-coffees-to-be-healthy voice called throughout the door.

When Sebastian gave no sign of acknowledging the noise causer, Harry tossed down his book in annoyance, “Are you going to answer that? I believe there is only one person in this room that goes by the name Sebastian—or prick for that matter” Harry added the last bit under his breath. Not that Sebastian noticed, in fact the brunette seemed dead set on completely ignoring everything around him including Harry. After a long minute and increasingly louder and louder pounding on the door, Harry gave up his glaring contest (since Sebastian didn’t seem aware of the fact that he was actually having a glaring contest with Harry at the moment, Harry appointed himself the winner) and stomped moodily over to the door.

Stupid bloody prat—he could at least answer his own damn visitors…Harry muttered in his head before yanking the door open to come face to face with a shocked looking blonde teen with his fist raised in an obvious-about-to-knock way. “Yes?” Harry snapped not bothering to hide his irritation. The poor kid obviously thought that the tone and glare was directed at him rather than the prat on the bed behind because his shocked looked turned into a rather wary, timid one.

“Err….hi! um….did I get the wrong room? I thought that this was Sebastian’s room….” He trailed off looking more and more unsure. Harry mentally sighed to himself, he knew of course that Sebastian normally had a single room (again, thanks to Anthony’s donations) so he could understand where the boy in front of him might be a bit confused.

Forcing the annoyance he was feeling down and pasting on a half passable smile Harry decided to interrupt the fumbling blond’s monologue, “Harry” Harry supplied to the answer to the unasked question while extending his hand for a quick handshake and continuing, “…and yes the ass is here…” Harry said stepping back to let the blond enter the room and see where Sebastian was lying on his bed, “Daaarrrling….you have a visitor” Harry called back to Sebastian using the most obnoxiously sing song voice he could manage. He internally smirked when it caused Sebastian to send him a death glare—served the idiot right…next time he would answer the door when it was CLEARLY for him. With that Harry went back to his own bed, picked up his book and set upon ignoring the scene in front of him.

He didn’t missed the shell shocked look on the other boy’s face (Jeff apparently, since that was what Sebastian called him—though what relationship existed between the two was still up in the air) at Harry’s addressment of Sebastian though; he smirked at the thought of all the difficult questions he would force Sebastian to face over the next few days unless the ass decided to stop acting like such a bastard. Yes, this could be quite fun he decided.

\----------------00--------------------------------------------------

Hunter Clarington was not what most saw when they looked at him. Generally when people first saw him they immediately placed him in the snotty, spoiled prep school category but that was their mistake; underestimating him, not his. The truth was, was he was all those things but he was also incredibly ambitious and he liked to think, rather cunning…he had not risen as high as he had in the hierarchy at his last school on his father’s power alone. For while his dad was an no doubt a well respected and important figure in the army and politics, Hunter had learned early on that the type of people he was thrown in with only respected one’s legacy to a point, if he hadn’t had his own intelligence and attributes he would not have lasted, let alone risen to the point of unofficial leader at Carson Long** within a year.

It was not something that the staff or students at CLA talked about outside the immediate walls of the academy but it was understood that you either sank or swam…and those who sank did not generally have a nice experience at the school.

So, it wasn’t really that surprising that Hunter had done his research on Dalton as a school and it’s students before coming to this small bubble of ‘tolerance’ located amongst one of the most small town environments in the state of Ohio. Nor was it really all that surprising that he had immediately sought out the dirt on each and every student within a few days of arriving. While he had been irritated to learn that Sebastian Symthe had returned to Dalton after all (there had been a rumor that he would not be—which would have made his own position of power unquestioned and unchallenged) he was not worried.

He had heard the stories of Sebastian’s last year at Dalton and there was more than enough mistakes and bad blood between him and the rest of his schoolmates that it shouldn’t pose to be too much of a hassle to discredit him. It might sound a little harsh and even perhaps a tad over the top but Hunter knew boys like Sebastian…they weren’t the type to bow down to another and there could not be two top-dogs at Dalton, of this Hunter was sure.

For that matter he not only knew boys like Sebastian but actually knew Sebastian himself. This was not the first time meeting or rather competing against the infamous brunette. It was true that neither of them had ever gone to the same school before but Anthony Symthe had his fingers dipped in the private sector of Washington and in turn had more than his share of encounters with Hunter’s father, General Clarington.* Sebastian and Hunter had met when they were still in grade school and had attended (at least until the last two years) the same annual funding galas. There had always been an unspoken rivalry between the two of them, Hunter was the perfect mini-soldier his father wanted him to be (at least when his father was around and to those who thought they had some authority—it was easier to let them believe this and go about his business on the sly. There was no point in appearing to swim against the current), while Sebastian not only swam but thrashed against any and all restraints or authority present. They both sneered at the others way of doing things—he though Sebastian was both careless and a fool, while Sebastian thought Hunter was a sellout and ass kisser. Outside of the ‘social functions’ they attended there were a few sports competitions and such….so yes, this was not the first time he had been faced with the arrogant brunette.

And while he was confident in his own skills and abilities to manipulate and steer the student body in the direction that best suited to him, Hunter was not so foolish to underestimate Sebastian. From what he knew from his sources outside of his own personal encounters with Sebastian, the brunette could also be charming and slippery, in not a little cold—all qualities that people tended to flock towards…so no, Hunter would not underestimate a sure to be rival. He would find an Achilles heel to force the other boy into submission. All he needed to do was wait and observe.

One person who he had not expected or gathered any information on prior to his arrival was the boy who came with Symthe, Harry. Rumor was that Sebastian was actually married to the English teen, although he was not sure just how accurate this rumor actually was. For while it seemed like they should be close (shared room, shared time table) anyone who had seen them together could tell there was a lot of unresolved animosity between the two. He had a hard time seeing how two people who seemed to loath one another deciding to get married and stay that way—it really didn’t make any sort of sense.

Hunter for his part did not know what to make of Harry (he had yet to steal his student file and no one had heard the green eyed boy say his last name as of yet, one way to discover if there was any truth to the whole married rumor—and when asked the boy would smile and walk away or change the subject).

From what he had seen so far the boy was a mix of contradictions. He was confident and self assured and yet seemed to fade into the background. It was clear that the boy should be a threat (if he was to trust his instincts—which were almost never wrong) but at the same time it was hard to imagine him as one; for it seemed as if the English teen had no intention of reaching out and grabbing onto the power that seemed to cloak him. He was friendly at times yet incredibly distant and aloof overall. It was rather irritating. It completely obliterated his normal way of doing things, because if Hunter could not figure him out- understand just what made Harry who he was (like he did with everyone he met), then he could not bend him and manipulate the teen into doing or being what he wanted him to be.

He didn’t know if he should befriend or obliterate Harry, and this uncertainty irritated him.

In the end he decided to watch the green eyed boy for the better part of a week; and what he observed did little to clear up his confusion when it came to the teen. During the week, he watched as Harry seemed to float from one group to another never really settling down in one but not quite snubbing any either. He had heard through the grapevine (which was quite extensive at Dalton) that the English teen politely declined invitations to try out for the school’s a-capella club but tentatively accepted a position on the Lacrosse team. He had apparently only agreed to participate if he was not placed in a starting position on the team, and while his request seemed a little out there, the captain had agreed, only to kick himself for agreeing after he had seen Harry play. Apparently the slim teen was a natural—aggressive and not afraid of the violence involved but rather seemed to revel in it.

All these things helped Hunter in starting to paint a picture of the teen but they were still only surface observations. For that matter any information that he would have normally placed in the important category (aka: paper trails of the teens past) were rather barren to non-existent. It left him feeling ill at ease to say the least. It was the snide remarks and insult filled conversations between Harry and Symthe that sealed the deal in the end.

Yes, it would beneficial to get close to this teen….if anything he was sure that befriending Harry would help him take down Symthe once and for all.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *English Ivy can be grown in a temperate zone of 4-9, Ohio is a zone 5-6.   
> **Carson Long Military Academy is a grade 6-12 school located in New Bloomfield, PA—again never been here or met anyone who has actually schooled here all descriptions I use in this story or experiences are completely from my imagination.   
> *I apologize to all those who are part or have people they know in the US army. I am Canadian and have no understanding of ranking etc in the US army. So I apologize if the rankings that I have stated or the fact that a general is meeting with politicians is inaccurate. I googled what I could and made up the rest. It is not meant to offend anyone it is simply this way to enhance or add to my story!   
> Title and lyrics: Alone, together-Fall Out Boys


	6. Keeping Secrets

* * *

 

_I’ll keep my secrets_

_Close I’ll keep my secrets_

_From you_

_You lie to me I’ll lie to you_

_That’s what we do I’ll play_

_This game to prove you_

_Wrong so I can prove your_

_Not the one_

* * *

 

**_October_ **

The pouring rain made it hard to see his own hands, much less the rest of his team mates on the quickly becoming soppy field. Honestly, the coach had gone from being annoying and dedicated to being plain out cruel—it was barbaric to expect them to practice in this type of deluge; not to mention the temperature last night had taken a dip and had not yet righted itself-- not that this was all that surprising considering how friggen early it was

Safe to say Sebastian was once again cursing the fact that he had signed up to play this horrid sport-- despite how much he satisfaction he got out of flattening the competition. No, as much as he hated to admit it, the real reason he had signed up to play Lacrosse yet again this year-- despite the massive work load he was sure to be facing due to it being his senior year, was at least partly due to the fact that it was the one thing that seemed to make his father actually notice him.

Sure, it wasn’t like Anthony would ever lower himself to coming to watch a game or anything but Sebastian could tell by the subtle off hand comments that his father made during those boring ass ‘get-togethers’ that his father was eternally attending, that Anthony took pride in the fact that his son was involved in the sport. Whether that was because it was a ‘manly’ thing to do or simply because it meant that Sebastian was involved in things which did not include drinking and partying he didn’t know.

And as much as he liked to pretend he didn’t give a fuck what his father thought of him, he knew he would be lying….so, here he was at six in the morning, running around like a chicken missing a vital part of its body, all in hopes that he could garner one stupid little comment from his father. Yes, it was rather pathetic when he let himself think about it in a rational light.

He sighed and forced his miserable thoughts to piss off so that he could pay attention to what was happening around him, and it was a good thing too, as he just barely managed to net the ball that was heading at him at top speeds. Unfortunately he was not quite quick enough to dodge the accelerated body that had his body flying back and roughly greeting the wet ground bellow him.

In the background there was the sound of a shrill whistle and words that he couldn’t quite make sense of, though it sounded a lot like coach yelling---at whom; him or his opponent he couldn’t tell. Rain continued to splatter down making it hard to stare up at the sky without blinking. He finally managed to overcome the slight ringing in his ears and pushed his way up so that he was at least sitting.

“…thought the whole point of this game was to wipes out your opposition?” was the first voice he became aware of, and surprise-surprise it sounded unarguably British. While the past month had shown him and the rest of the lacrosse team that Harry had real talent for the sport, his talent was hindered by the teen’s unapologetic aggression.

Although it was no secret that lacrosse was a rough sport, the Brit seemed to have immeasurable amounts of rage to fuel his swift and brutal take downs on the field. Sebastian had been in some ways aware of the danger lurking in Harry’s wiry, tense frame but even he was surprised at how much of this side of the teen’s personality, Harry allowed out on the field. In the end he chalked it up to yet another contradiction of the person who was Harry—a person who in day to day life shied away from physical contact of any sort, no matter how banal but once given a uniform and a bloody stick seemed to relish in the painful contact that came with splattering various players across the field. Yes, the teen most definitely a paradox.

“Yes, but I’ve told you this before! If you had taken him out like that in a game you would have earned a penalty. There are rules! And they are there for a reason!” –yup, that was definitely coach’s aggravated voice speaking now. Not, that Sebastian could necessarily blame him for his aggravation given the number of times he had already told Harry this. Had Sebastian not been the one with the sore ass sprawled out on the ground, he would have found the whole thing funny; after all he was the king of breaking rules and irritating those in authority.

As Sebastian finally made himself stand up (ignoring how the world was spinning slightly) he heard Harry give a reluctant agreement to the coach about reining it in, though he was sure that the teen muttered something about his hits being a fraction of a bludgers under his breath.

A brilliant flash of lightening streaked across the sky, followed by a violent crack of thunder; both of which seemed to finally convince the coach that it was time to call it quits (though perhaps it was more to do with the fact that the coach didn’t feel up to dealing with Harry anymore for the day). “We have a game three days from now, I expect each and every one of you to hit the gym today to make up for our short practice…and you had better all have your asses on the field at 530am sharp tomorrow morning!” Coach barked before waving his hand in a clear dismissal, “alright get lost”.

The cold soaked teens didn’t even bother to hide their sighs of relief as they hastened towards the changing room and waiting showers. When Sebastian finally stripped off his outer layer of muddy clothing he took inventory over his poor battered body, he could see the red swelling on his lower abdomen that would no doubt be a massive bruise by tomorrow.

“You bastard! Look at what you did! This is going to fucking hurt for days” he snarled out at Harry who was across and a few lockers down from where Sebastian was currently standing. The rest of the team wisely remained silent and went about their business all to use to the frequent arguments between the two boys.

“Should have been paying attention then” Harry said shrugging before sitting down to peel off his own shin and knee pads.

Sebastian bit back a retort but still glared at his seemingly uncaring husband before slamming his locker door shut and stomping his way over to the showers, there really was no point on pushing—he would never get an apology out of the Harry anyway-- asshole that he was. Once again the little annoying voice in his head decided to bring up the fact that he had done essentially the same to Harry yesterday during practice. Who knew he would hate his own conscience so much?

Back in the main part of the changing room Harry sighed to himself as he watched Sebastian storm off, yet again. He couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty over how hard he had taken Sebastian out…yes, the jerk had essentially done the same thing to him yesterday, but he was supposed to be above responding to the prat…especially with the same tactics. He knew that Sebastian had been having a rough time of it lately, while he had managed to more or less smooth things down with the rest of the Warblers (and people made fun of Hogwarts for its name!) things between Sebastian and the others were still fairly rocky—and he knew he had not been helping in the least.

In fact he was pretty sure Sebastian’s own ‘foul’ against him yesterday was in retaliation to embarrassing the brunette the day before. He really should stop, but it was just so amusing watching the normally cold teen bristle with anger and embarrassment. He really wasn’t sure when he had become such a sadist.

But back to today….perhaps things were starting to escalate past the point of ribbing and teasing; it was easy to admit that they had both taken things to far recently….he suppose he should at least attempt some sort of peace offering to help smooth down the ruffled feathers of his husband before things got truly out of hand.

Harry was interrupted from his thoughts by the touch of a hand on his shoulder; he just barely managed to stop his reaction that would have had him pinning the poor unsuspecting fool to the locker behind him, however he couldn’t quite stop himself from jerking away.

“Whoa…sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you” the easy disarming tone that Harry had learned to identify with Hunter stated holding up his hands in a placating gesture.

Harry coughed to hide his embarrassment but managed a smile, “Sorry, just lost in my thoughts” He really did not like the calculating look in Hunter’s green eyes but chose to ignore it and continue with his easy façade.

“Sure…hey that was quite a hit you gave Symthe out there today” the teen said returning his own grin-- once again Harry couldn’t help but feel like he was talking to a cars salesmen—the same oily suaveness present in Hunter’s manner. He couldn’t say why he didn’t trust the other teen, for Hunter had only ever been friendly and cordial to him but he couldn’t quite shake the uneasy feeling he got around him.

“Hmmm…yeah, part of the game and all” Harry answered shrugging dismissively before returning to wringing out his wet socks. In doing so he just missed the disappointed look on Hunters face that was quickly replaced by his once again friendly smile.

“I wanted to know if you would like to grab a coffee, since we got out so early this morning….no chance of being late for class”

Harry paused what he was doing trying to think of an excuse he could use to get out of going for coffee with Hunter….he really did not feel comfortable going anywhere with the other boy alone. Again perhaps a little irrational but his intuition had yet to serve him wrong.

“Err….” He started before catching sight of Sebastian making his way back to his locker….inspiration struck him, maybe just maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. “Sure, um hold on a sec, I’ll check if Sebastian wants to come as well” he stated before standing and making his way over to where Sebastian was sorting through his gym locker.

“Hey Sebastian” –he resisted using the annoying nickname he had bestowed his husband with the last week; he was aiming for peace after all and calling Sebastian, Sebby would likely take away from that effort—“look, I’m sorry for the tackle…maybe it was a tad harder then it needed to be. Why don’t I buy you coffee to make it up to you” he tacked on his most charming smile to the end.

Sebastian shot him a suspicious look and looked ready to refuse but something over Harry’s shoulder had him pause, “And why would you want to do that?” he asked his tone giving no clue as to what he was thinking.

“er….as a peace offering?” Harry said though it sounded more like a question. Sebastian studied him for a minute before nodding his head a fraction, ‘fine, give me a minute to grab the rest of my gear”

Harry shot him another smile nodding his head. Well, that certainly worked out better then he thought….though the slightly smug look on Sebastian’s face when he looked over to where Hunter was standing gave Harry pause.

There was definitely some history there….but for now he would ignore it. All he needed to focus on at the moment was getting through a coffee with his husband, and the new creepy-morally ambiguous guy.

No problem---right?

\-----------------oo------------------------------------------------

Sebastian walked purposefully through the glass paneled doors of the all too familiar Lima Bean Café. He diligently ignored Potter’s mutters about how ludicrous it was to waste so much time and gas to drive all the way to Lima to find a cup of coffee. In truth he wasn’t even really sure why he had insisted on coming back here….after all he was still trying to avoid the whole Lima—aka: McKinley crowd, but perhaps that was it….maybe this was his pride coming into play once again. After all he may have made mistakes last year and ultimately lost (at least for now) to the princess, but that didn’t mean he was going to let them drive him out of _his_ coffee shop (and yes, he was ignoring the hypocrisy of his statement considering he had, had every plan of running and hiding from this exact mess—and people barely over a month ago).

It might also have been the annoying knowing little smirk on Clarington’s face; that stupid superior smirk that all but screamed that Hunter knew exactly what Sebastian was going to do in the given situation…run away. Well, ha he showed him didn’t he? Hunter might think he could predict and therefore control Sebastian actions and reactions but Sebastian was determined to prove the condescending shmuck wrong….hence the trio coming to Lima for coffee.

Really none of them had classes until eleven this morning (Hunter and Harry both had spares and well, Sebastian technically had class—French lit, but he could give a rats ass about the class and normally only showed up for tests) so there wasn’t any real reason that they couldn’t make the drive to Lima.

Sebastian had to bite back an amused smirk when Harry deliberately came to stand on his rights side—the farthest distance away from Hunter that the green eyed male could manage at the moment. Oh, Sebastian was well aware of the reason Harry had insisted on buying him coffee as a gesture of ‘good will.’ Sure, he could believe that the wizard did truly want things to cool down, at least a little bit between them (even Sebastian could admit they were quickly heading for getting out of hand—he had the painful bruises from this morning’s practice to kindly remind him of this point) but he also knew that his ‘husband’ could have found another way to do so. No, it was obvious to him that the raven haired teen was hoping to use him as a barrier between himself and Hunter. Of course this begged the question as to why the wizard thought it necessary to have a third party present…as far as Sebastian was aware (and he had known Clarington for quite some time) Hunter had no interest in playing for Sebastian’s team…therefore the annoying prig had to be up to something else. Sebastian couldn’t help but feel a small spark of pride for his husband…the wizard apparently had good instincts.

When they finally got to the front of the line Harry was quick to place his order (surprisingly enough a large black coffee) before turning to both Sebastian and Hunter with a quirked eye brown “What? I’m not ordering tea here…American’s make horrendous tea”

Sebastian barely managed to stop himself from laughing at the rare snooty tone in Harry’s voice; trust the Brit to not give a crap about what he was wearing or looked like but to get offended over the quality of available tea.

Ten minutes later the trio was seated around one of the back tables sipping their chosen beverages and partaking in stiff, awkward conversation about Lacrosse, the weather and how Harry—no, Potter was enjoying Ohio so far. Safe to say the polite “It’s fine” was far more telling than any truthful answer Harry might have given.

Hunter was doing little to help defuse the palpable tension between him and Harry; if anything, it seemed as though he was trying his best to stoke the barely suppressed animosity between them. Sebastian had forgotten just how much he despised the other teen with his polite barbs and shrewd insults—not that he was unable to give it back just as good as he got but there was personal information hidden amongst Hunter’s remarks that Sebastian didn’t necessarily want Harry to hear.

Sebastian was almost thankful for the interrupting voice….well, until he realized just whom that voice belonged to….yup, the only person who he disliked more than Hunter and his husband….Kurt Hummel. Lovely.

Of course the fact that Kurt was wearing a serving apron and appeared to be an actual employee of the Lima Bean did serve to cheer him up immensely….ah, sometimes karma was not a bitch but was a well loved angel.

“Symthe?!” the disbelief and horror in the high pitch tone was oh so lovely, “What are _you_ doing here? I thought you ran away to France?” the second part was said filled to the brim with condescending mockery, not that he would have expected anything else from Lady Hummel.

“Hummel!?” Sebastian replied slapping his hand to his cheek in mock surprise, “What are _you_ doing here and as a coffee boy no less? I thought you ran off to big glamorous New York?” he ended his show with a patented Symthe smirk--which of course got the exact reaction out of Hummel that he had been aiming for: an angry flush and spluttering half insult. Hmm…perhaps coming back to Lima wasn’t such a horrible idea after all; with the last month of failed Harry baiting it was nice to be able to get under someone’s skin for once.

Kurt sent Sebastian a furious scowl before turning his attention towards the other two occupants of the table, obviously in an attempt to get some of his own back “and just who are you two? Symthe’s new boy toys? I will warn you now that he is only using you….it’s what he does”

While the comment itself was rather lame, Sebastian was surprised by just how angry Hummel’s insinuation’s actually made him….not that they wouldn’t normally be true….but still….

He was even more surprised when he heard Harry snort into his cup before coughing lightly and leaning backwards to address Kurt, but not before the dark haired teen made an obvious sweep of Hummel from head to toe and wrinkled his nose slightly, making it clear just what he thought of him from his appraisal.

“Hmmm….well not that you actually have done anything to deserve an introduction considering just how uncouth you are acting at the moment….but I’m Harry...” Harry paused for a moment before adopting an evil little smirk, “…Symthe” he added before returning his attention back to his coffee in a dismissive gesture.

Sebastian almost wanted to kiss the infuriating teen when he saw just how much Kurt flushed at the implied insult. Hunter in his part remained silent a mere spectator to the show in front of him, although his brow was slightly furrowed at Harry’s obscured defense of Sebastian.

Hummel all but snarled at the teen’s answer, “A _Symthe_ , should have known given your arrogance….what are you his bastard brother or something? Always thought—no, hoped that Symthe was an only child”

Harry glanced up looking at Kurt with boredom, “….mm…nope not exactly” he said popping the p, “…I’m his husband actually” he dropped the bomb as though he was simply pointing out that it was raining outside today. He remained (or at least appeared to remain) completely unaware of the three flabbergast expressions being shot his way.

Sebastian, because he really hadn’t expected Harry to just come out and admit it—after all they had been at Dalton for over a month now and the teen had never mentioned his relation to Sebastian outright. Sure, he had eluded to the fact that there was history between them, but Harry had yet to actually state that they were actually married…Sebastian really wasn’t sure what to think about this fact.

Hunter, because although he had heard the rumors he hadn’t truly believed them given his own observations up until this point—perhaps it was an arranged marriage? That would explain the anger and resentment between the two…..

And finally Kurt, because of all people Kurt had expected to get married, Sebastian hadn’t ever made the list…after all who in their right mind would ever willingly marry an asshole like Symthe?---mind you this Harry character seemed to be just as spoiled and arrogant as the meekrat…

Harry made a loud slurping sound before setting his cup down, standing up and languidly stretching, “Well I finished that horrid cup of coffee….should we not be getting back soon? You might not care about missing a few class Symthe but I—and I’m sure Hunter do….”

Sebastian for his part was still in slight shock so decided to forgo his normal snappy comeback and instead stood up leaving his half finished drink where it was-- from the corner of his eye he could see Hunter do the same.

Harry pulled on one of the numerous fall coats Sebastian had made him buy before slowly turning back to where Hummel was standing gaping like a fish, “Well, I would say it was pleasant meeting you…?”

Kurt himself was still trying to process the fact that the teen in front of him had married his arch-nemis so in a slightly confused and shocked tone he supplied, “Kurt Hummel”

“Yes….well lovely to meet you Kurt, but we really must be off….coming darling?” Harry shot back at Sebastian before confidently striding out of the coffee shop.

Hunter and Sebastian followed in silence, though Sebastian swore he heard Hunter mutter under his breath, “you are so screwed…”

That worst part of that statement was that Sebastian really could not find it himself to argue with it.

\----00---

Blaine swallowed the niggling of dread that was trying to creep its way up out of his stomach as he made his way into the Lima Bean. He couldn’t quite manage and it made him feel even worse then he already did. He should not be feeling this way….he should not be dreading a coffee with his own boyfriend….and yet…

He didn’t know when this traitorous line of thinking, and more importantly feeling, had begun…okay, that was a flat out lie. He did actually know, or at least he could make a solid guess. Sometime in between a certain cocky, arrogant, flirtatious brunette departing for France and a certain controlling, highly saccrine, high maintenance boyfriend decided that he would rather stick around Lima working in a coffee shop then risk failure and try his luck in New York. And there it was again….the horrible thoughts that he just couldn’t quite manage to banish from his unfortunately callous brain.

This was not how it was suppose to be. He loved Kurt….he should love everything about him; from his continuously contradictory actions; moving from smothering to ignoring in a breadths width, his confidence (arrogance —urg, shut up brain!) in his own opinion, to the comfortable (boring) rhythm they had fallen into regarding their relationship….this was what he had wanted…right?

As much as Blaine wanted and tried to deny it, he knew that Kurt had been right to regard Sebastian with such suspicion and jealousy….he had been right, because there were times (and they were becoming more and more frequent as of late) that Blaine found himself wondering about the what ifs. What if he had fallen for the charming Symthe’s advances?, what if he had chosen the more adventurous forbidden path rather than the safe expected one? Yes….Blaine Anderson hated those what ifs as much as he clutched at them in his moments of loneliness or irritation.

But these were dangerous thoughts….thoughts he could not allow himself to dwell in, he had a lovely, loving boyfriend with him right here and now and he couldn’t allow such thoughts to screw that up.

He forced a pleasant, warm smile onto his face as he caught sight of Tina waving him over, a second coffee in hand. He pushed the final lingering doubts out of his brain as he weaved his way over to the saved table and dipped briefly to give the mandatory peck to Kurt’s cheek. “Hi…sorry I’m late” he offered up before sitting down so that he was half facing Tina and half facing Kurt. That was another thing….the glances and looks he had been receiving from Tina lately were starting to weird him out a bit, they were toeing the side between friendly and well, too friendly. He shook his head mentally and forced himself to pay attention.

“Oh it’s fine” Kurt said, though the slight coolness to his tone said otherwise, “couldn’t find your hair-gel this morning or something?” he asked in what Blaine was sure was suppose to come off as a gentle tease but struck a little too sharply to manage so. He had noticed in the last few weeks Kurt’s comments had become far more cutting…he forced himself not to react knowing that this was just his boyfriend’s way of dealing with his own feelings of inadequacy and that he should not take it personally. Still, sometimes it was hard.

Biting back the urge to snap Blaine forced a strained chuckle out but otherwise let the comment passed unacknowledged. “So….what was so desperate that you needed to see us during lunch break instead of telling me during our normal evening chat?” he asked lifting an eyebrow.

He could literally hear Tina rolling her eyes (Tina and Kurt barely got along and if it wasn’t for him he was sure that they wouldn’t have bothered with the farce civility). He had to admit that she probably had a point however…how many times had he been witness to one of Kurt’s ‘emergencies’ which turned out to be a missed Burberry sale or a insensitive comment from Finn? Still he made himself show only concern and sympathy on his face because after all, that was what a good boyfriend did.

Kurt settled down making a show of getting comfortable; this was not really that surprising as Kurt had always been a performer (drama queen). He cleared his throat and leaned forward slightly, “you will NEVER guess who I saw in here this morning!”

Great it was going to be one of those ‘Barbra Streisand decided to have coffee in Lima today and told me my complexion was glowing’ type of emergencies….Blaine bit back a sigh but took the bait as was expected of him anyway, “Who?”

Kurt straightened up, “The meekrat! And he wasn’t alone….” He added the last bit rife with suggestion.

Blaine felt like a vice had grabbed onto his heart and was squeezing all of the blood out of it. He didn’t know what to say or for that matter feel. Part of him wanted to be hurt and angry—why hadn’t Sebastian told him that he was not staying in Europe but rather coming back to Ohio? They may not have been on very solid terms at the moment, but he had hoped that they had at least managed to stay sort of friends after the whole slushy—Karosfsky —apology thing. They had texted each other a few times on and off throughout the early part of the summer. While, another part of him was horrified with the prospect of having such dangerous temptation dangled in front of him again, and a much larger much more frightening part was thrilled. Oh….this was not going to end well, he could tell that already.

“Oh?” he managed to croak out when he realized that he had been silent for far too long, thankfully his stunned silence had gone largely unnoticed underneath Tina’s indigent outcry.

“Yes…when I first started shift he was sitting right there, smug and arrogant as ever. And if he’s bad the jerks with him are even worse…well at least his _husband_ is” Kurt dropped his voice in a scandalized manner.

The theatrics of it were unfortunately lost on Blaine who could only hear “…his _husband_ ” ringing over and over again like a cruel recording.

Tina thankfully asked the question that Blaine was currently finding himself unable to ask, “his what??!?”

Kurt settled back looking altogether too smug for being the one to bare such earth shattering gossip, “Yes, that’s what I said….I couldn’t believe it either! Symthe’s the last person in the world I thought would get married and at seventeen too! I mean I don’t get it…with the way he was going after Blaine last year….” He trailed off allowing his comment to sink and wiggle its way in. It was clear what he was trying to imply—that his insistent pursual of Blaine and even the later friendship was all a game to the brunette; that it had never really meant anything at all.

It was surprising just how much that thought hurt—even though Blaine knew he really had no right to feel hurt over it, he was the one that had ultimately chosen Kurt over Sebastian after all….so who cared if it had been all a game in the end? Really wasn’t this a good thing? Didn’t it just prove that he had made the right decision?......

“What’s his husband like? What’s his name? Does he go to Dalton too? Why did the meekrat come back at all?” Tina shot a stream of eager questions out, hardly pausing long enough for a breath. She lived for juicy gossip after all--Blaine knew that she was one of Jacob Isrel’s new webpage’s most ardent followers.

“Harry or something completely plebian like that…. and he’s just as cocky, arrogant and rude as Sebastian is! Honestly I don’t get the attraction….I mean I guess if he didn’t open his mouth he’s good looking enough but still….have to wonder why Symthe would actually marry him instead of tossing him aside like all of his other one night whores” Kurt said primly, sipping daintily at his cup of whatever he was nursing. “He had an accent though so I don’t think he’s from around here….as to why the evil chipmunk would come back, I have no idea….the conversation we had wasn’t all that long”

Blaine made some humming noises and nodded his head every once in a while as Kurt and Tina picked the subject to death. He couldn’t force himself to engage in the conversation, his own shock and surprise was all to consuming at the moment. He didn’t know how to take this new development; really it shouldn’t affect him at all…..

So why then did Kurt’s satisfied, “well…at least he will leave you alone now Blaine,” leave him feeling so empty?

\---------oo------------------------------

Harry sighed in relief as he collapsed on his dorm room bed—the beds that he had heard complained about over and over again; from their size, to the quality and thickness—honestly he wanted to show some of these privileged private school boys what a lumpy, thin mattress really felt like; he should know after all. He really was more thankful for the relative silence that the small room offered him then he ought to be, but in all fairness it had been a freaking loooong ass day.

The early morning foul weathered practice, coupled with the surprisingly confrontational coffee run, followed by a long day of classes that he had only recently managed to catch up in, all rounded off with the never ending cautious—to blatantly curious stares he still received from the majority of the school population was enough to fray even his normally unflappable nerves (one generally stopped being so reactive after a life of publicity and scrutiny). So yes, he was once again incredibly thankful that he had, had the foresight to tell Thad that he was NOT interested in signing up for the Warblers—as he was now free to recuperate Sebastian free in his dorm instead of prancing around singing weird cultish songs. Definitely one of his better decisions.

As he sunk back on the bed and took to staring up at the white paneled ceiling, he couldn’t help but be drawn back to the coffee run he had ‘volunteered’ for with Sebastian and Hunter. He honestly couldn’t say why he had reacted that way…..he would be lying if he said he didn’t share at least part of that Kurt kid’s opinion of Sebastian. But it was how the little snot said it…something about that snide, poisonous tone that had set him on edge, his very being had bristled with indignation—despite the fact that the comment had mostly been directed at Sebastian, and he himself had said and thought much worse things about his husband.

He sighed shifting restlessly, his turbulent thoughts translating into nervous, restless energy. Maybe it was the fact that Kurt reminded him so much of all the bigoted, assuming assholes he’d spent his life dealing with…the way that he had just automatically belittled both Harry and Hunter for just sharing a table with his obvious enemy….Whatever it didn’t really matter.

Well, outside of the brief sense of camaraderie he and Sebastian had had in the moment…again when it all came down to it the event was a non-event so to say. Sitting here brooding on such things was useless he really should use his time better and start on his applied physics homework—something he could safely say he had not missed during his tenure at Hogwarts….

The next thing that he was aware of was a knocking resonating from the door. What the fuck?!—huh, apparently his body had decided that sleep was a better option than physics, go figure. “Hold your horses” he yelled at the door fumbling his way to a standing position, while trying to smooth down his bed addled hair (not that it actually looked any different then it normally did). The knocking did not stop or even slow—he wondered briefly who the hell it could be since while he was friendly enough to most of the boys he went to school with; he wasn’t exactly close enough to any of them to warrant a drop-in visit.

He threw open the door only to have the ‘What?!’ that he was planning on asking die in his throat. He could safely say that the person standing, posture erect, hair neat and clothing over priced, in front of his door was one of the last people he would ever have expected.

“Draco?!?” He asked in true shock, gaping at the blond who was wearing an annoyed, put upon expression on his face.

“Well done Potter….I see that living with the muggles has done nothing to improve your mental facilities” his former childhood nemesis/friend/friend with benefits deadpanned.

“Wha….how…er… why are you here?” Harry mumbled ineloquently as he stepped to the side to allow the blond entrance to his dorm room. He watched with barely veiled amusement the myriad of emotions that flickered across Draco’s face as he took in Harry’s current living space—most ranged from disgust to disbelief. If there was one thing he could count upon it was the fact that Draco would forever be a snob—no amount of war, new alliances or changed belief system could change that.

Draco finally turned back to him after perching cautiously on the edge of his desk chair, “I came for a visit….is that so hard to believe?”

Harry felt his own eyebrows shoot up in disbelief, “Yes” he stated.

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his formerly tidy blond locks, “such little faith….” He muttered grouchily, “Fine, I was curious to see how the mighty had fallen….and I couldn’t stand listening to Weasley’s inane blather about whether or not he should try to contact you and make sure you were still alive and all that rot, so I took it upon myself to check, if only for the relief of my poor ears”

Harry suppressed a grin at the thought, it was no secret that while he and Draco had mended fences—and er…more, that Ron and Draco still despised each other and from what he had heard from Ron before the ‘fateful night,’ they had both entered and been accepted into the auror training program. It was truly a miracle that both of them were still standing. He wasn’t really sure what to make of Ron’s indecision regarding him and his well being…the red head while a good friend, was also a rather unreliable one. He shrugged it away, only time would tell if the red head could get over the fact that Harry had essentially bonded with a one night stand (and a male one at that). And as far as Draco’s excuse as to why he was here Harry had serious doubts that it was the entire truth, but he would leave it alone….for now.  

“Hmmm….how thoughtful of you” Harry replied dryly, “Well, here I am alive and well”

Draco gave him a skeptical look at the last part of his statement but took his time to give Harry a rather scrutinous once over, “Well, I have to admit you look more then fine” he shot Harry a lecherous smirk, “I do believe this school’s blazer suits you rather more than the bulky Hogwarts robes ever did….much more revealing”

Harry rolled his eyes, more then used to Draco’s flirtatious remarks choosing to ignore them for the time being “so how did you get here?”

Draco sighed and pouted a little, “Your no fun….” He muttered, and upon seeing Harry’s pointed looked continued, “stupid married people” sighing once more he straightened, his expression going from one of a denied child to a much more business like one, “the obvious way….I took an international port-key. It really wasn’t all that hard to convince Hermione to find out from Kingsley just where in this vulgar country you were staying and it just so happens that Pansy has blood relatives living in Delaware…true they are rather odd wizards—but I suppose that is a given living somewhere where magic itself is so wild---anyway they kindly agreed to host me for a few days while I tracked you down”

Harry nodded his understanding before giving Draco a small genuine smile, “It is really good to see you Drake…” he offered quietly a little embarrassed at how emotional the statement sounded.

Thankfully Draco chose not to comment on it instead just giving him an answering smile before standing up, “I know. Now how about you give me a tour of this hovel?”

Glad for the change in topic Harry agreed readily, instructing Draco to turn around so that he could change from the issued Dalton uniform to more comfortable jeans and sweatshirt—he only had to scold the blond once for peeking, so overall it was a win.

It was strange how much tension that he had previously been unaware of drained away in the presence of someone who truly knew him—or at least knew a lot more of his history and personality then anyone here in Ohio did. It was nice in a way. Of course it had always been this way with Draco—even back when they were still enemies, the blond had a way of digging under the barriers Harry erected to hide behind and keep others out. It was what made it so easy for them to shift from enemies to lovers when the time came, they already knew how to work each other up—they simply changed the outcome.

Leading Draco through the marbled halls of Dalton, Harry was aware of the strange looks they were getting from everyone they passed—he knew it was likely due to the fact that Draco actually had him laughing at some of his snide, elitist remarks-it was true that since his arrival he rarely showed more emotion then a brief smile or stilted chuckle.

When they finally arrived at the common room where the Warblers normally held their practices Harry found himself more relaxed then he had been in months.

“so….which one did you bond to then?” Draco asked his Slytherin mask not quite covering his curiosity as he scanned the group of practicing boys. The Warblers themselves were yet unaware of their visitors as they were facing away from the side door and rather caught up in whatever choreography Sebastian was currently describing, Harry had to admit it sounded complicated—perhaps he had been a little hasty when he assigned the group the same status as the barely tolerable Christmas caroler groups he had witnessed under Dumbledore’s Christmas festivities.

“The one talking” Harry answered nodding towards Sebastian. He was too caught up in watching the group in front of him to catch the shadow of jealousy that flickered across Draco’s face.

“Hmmm….well at least you bonded to an attractive muggle—or I suppose he would have to be a squib wouldn’t he?” Draco asked the last not bothering to hide his contempt. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Yes Draco, apparently his great grandmother or something was a squib from one of the old pureblood lines or something….though I thought you had moved passed some of your archaic prejudices?” he added the last bit in clear reproach.

Draco scowled but held his tongue, partly because he knew Harry was right and partly because they had finally caught the attention of the group they were watching.

“Hey Harry! Change your mind?” Nick asked a tad too brightly, “Oh whose this?” when he noticed the blond standing beside Harry.

“Seriously?” Draco asked in disbelief arching an eyebrow at Harry, “They want _you_ to join? Have they heard you sing?? I mean I get you’re the golden boy and believed to be good at everything, but seriously? Singing?”

Harry shot him a glare, all too aware of how much joy Draco was getting out of the idea, “shut up Drake, and don’t call me that” he hissed elbowing the blond sharply causing him to grimace. Harry turned back to the group who was watching the interplay in fascination (well most of them, Sebastian was currently glaring at Draco and Trent was looking rather nervous—then again Trent only had two settings; bubbly or terrified depending on who was in the vicinity; generally it was set to terrified whenever Sebastian or Harry was near, though Harry was not entirely sure as to what he did to earn such a reaction).

“No Nick I haven’t, and this prick here is a good….friend of mine from back home. He just came for a visit and to see some other friends staying in the country” Harry explained refusing to look at Sebastian. He felt unexplainably guilty for Draco’s drop by, which made zero sense ….why the hell should he feel guilty over having an old friend—or even lover stop by? It wasn’t like Sebastian cared who he saw or associated with and how it would affect Harry.

“Charmed” Draco drawled briefly shaking the hands of various Warlbers that came up to welcome him. Harry grimaced at the clear distain in the blond’s voice.

Finally Sebastian chose to comment, “Equally so…..where and how long is your _friend_ staying Harry?” he asked completely disregarding Draco to ask the question, his own dismissal clear. Harry felt Draco bristle at the slight beside him and mentally sighed—why on earth had he ever thought that having these two in the same room was a good idea again?

Draco interrupted before Harry could reply, “not sure yet…depends on how long dear Harry wants me to stay I suppose” smirking wickedly at the glare he drew from Sebastian. Harry was starting to feel rather like a bone that the two were fighting over and he couldn’t help but notice the gleeful light in Hunter’s eyes either.

Harry decided he should probably intervene before the two idiots chose to abandon word slights and resorted to physical ones, “Draco, is only here for a few days” he stated sending Draco another pointed look to which Draco pouted, “and where he stays is really none of your concern _dear_ ” he shot back at Sebastian who looked like he wanted to retort but abstained from doing so.

“We will let you guys get back to work—sorry for interrupting….come on Draco. Let’s go” Harry sent the rest of the group a brief look of apology before latching onto Draco’s arm and dragging him away. Once they had gotten far enough away from the common room so that they were once again alone Harry rounded on Draco, “Ok…what the hell was that?”

Draco shifted from foot to foot but sent him an innocent look, “What was what?” he asked not quite meeting Harry’s eyes.

Harry glared and crossed his arms, “you know exactly what I’m talking about Draco….what was with the posturing? And for that matter why are you really back? And don’t give me the Ron being annoying excuse because we both know that, that’s exactly what it is—an excuse.”

Draco sighed finally caving under Harry’s stubborn gaze, “fine….your right it’s not the reason I came back” he admitted before shifting again and moving to sit down on one of the large window seats that were placed sporadically throughout the Dalton halls.

“And what is?” Harry prompted joining him so that they were sitting side by side.

“Father has finally put his foot down and signed a marriage contract for me” Draco admitted sounding much younger then he actually was.

“Oh Draco” Harry said softly drawing the blond into a slightly awkward side hug, “I’m sorry.” And he was; he knew how much Draco had been dreading this day—how much he did not want to follow tradition and wind up in a cold arranged marriage like his parents had. For while pureblood wizards were fine with alternative sexual preferences, they still expected their progeny to settle down and produce an heir with a person that was approved by the head of house. Those with alternative preferences were expected to conduct such affairs on the side and in secret.

He felt the blond tremble slightly in his arms, “It’s with Greengrass—the eldest daughter, the marriage ceremony will be held in the New Year” he said quietly.

Harry sighed stroking a hand through Draco’s hair, “and there is no way to convince him otherwise or to get out of it?” he asked, although he already knew the answer to that question.

“No…” Draco mumbled, “I had always hoped….well” he blushed –something that Harry had rarely seen the blond do—Draco coughed before determinedly plowing on, “I had always hoped that he would agree to an arranged marriage with the male of another old powerful line….but with how things have played out recently…” he trailed off refusing to move his head from Harry’s shoulder and thus avoiding looking at him.

Harry sighed, he knew what Draco was referring to….that Lucius might have agreed to an arranged marriage between the two of them despite Harry being decidedly male, what with his standing in the wizarding world and wealth…of course the bonding to Sebastian had bashed any hopes that Draco had of convincing Lucius so. “I’m sorry Draco” he said again quietly. Because he was. While he had always thought that he would marry Ginny down the road, he could admit that he would not have minded ending up with Draco for a partner…..

Draco finally pushed himself up and hastily wiped his eyes shooting Harry a somewhat watery smile, “its fine….it’s not like we can never…” he again left his suggestion hanging in the air.

Harry sighed again, knowing exactly what Draco was suggesting. If they could not bond and marry in the eyes of the law there was always the pureblood alternative; a side affair—something to make unfavorable marriages more bearable. And as much as Harry wanted to say yes….to allow himself this one comfort he knew that he couldn’t. He wasn’t that person….no, he would rather wait until he was no longer bound to Sebastian before pursuing anyone else—and even then he did not think he could let himself be the other ‘woman,’ so to speak.

Draco must have seen his decision in his eyes as he let out a disappointed sigh, though he refused to back down completely, “…fine….but know that the option is always there if you should ever change your mind…”

Harry forced himself to laugh lightly and swot Draco over the back of the head, pretending that Draco’s words hadn’t settled like a parasite in the back of his brain. He wanted to believe that he would never come to that point….

But something in his gut disagreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song artist and song: Kicking Daisy : keeping secrets


	7. November Spawned a Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks so much for the response so far too this story. And just to reassure everyone the boys will move past all their angst and get it together soon (although not in this chapter—sorry! Just couldn’t suddenly make them pull their heads out of their As%es…but soon!) Harry is a little ooc in this chap—a bit bitchy and jealous (at least to start with). And it deals a little with Harry and ptsd (because no one could go through what Harry’s been through and come out all happy go lucky). For those of you waiting for fluff and smut—I promise there will be a wee bit in the next chapter and large amount in the chapters after that! Hope you enjoy, leave a comment and I’ll adore you!

**\-----------------------oo-----------------------------------**

_Sleep on and dream of Love_

_because it's the closest you will get to love_

_poor twisted child, so ugly, so ugly_

_poor twisted child, oh hug me, oh hug me_

_November spawned a monster_

\-----------------00-------------------------------

**_November_ **

Harry rolled over onto his stomach filled with annoyance and perhaps, just perhaps a twinge of something else…not that he was going to acknowledge that twinge. Doing his best to ignore the insistent twanging coming from Sebastian’s cell phone he once again forced himself to try and concentrate on the blur of equations and formulas staring defiantly back at him.

He could honestly say that he had finally found something that he hated more than potions—and considering how much he despised that wretched subject (okay, so the resentment over potions had more to do with the dour man who had taught it most of his school career, because while he could understand and even respect Snape for his sacrifices it didn’t mean he suddenly adored the deceased man) it was saying a lot. He just could not get his brain to care about anything math related; it was like there was a block that just made him want to give his textbook to fluffy as a chew toy.

Of course his irritation was not helped any by the quickly forming headache that was a direct result of both the confusing equations and Sebastian’s never silent phone. The brunette had left about half an hour ago to go do something or other—if he recalled it was a shower, and his bloody cell phone had been beeping at random intervals ever since.

Deep down Harry knew just why he was so irritated with the device, and unfortunately it had a lot more to do with just who was texting his husband constantly then the noise it was creating (okay, so maybe it was split 70-30…the chimes were rather grating after all). Harry swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly suspiciously constricted. Why did he care that ‘the Blaine Anderson’ had suddenly taken to texting his husband fairly regularly over the past few weeks? He shouldn’t—or at least that was what his head kept telling his churning stomach.

Unfortunately it appeared that his head was losing the battle as he couldn’t help but feel resentful towards the other teen. It didn’t help that whenever he spent ANY time with the warblers or warbler affiliated Dalton boys that all he heard about Blaine Anderson was how ‘wonderful, dreamy, amazing’ the other boy was. Honestly it kind of reminded him of his own obsessed fan-club back home—of course that just made him wonder if he could possibly pawn Creevey off on ‘the Blaine Anderson’.

Sighing he chucked his textbook to the end of his bed giving it up for a lost cause—maybe he could convince Trent to lend him his assignment tomorrow before class—really all he had to do was give him a Snape patented glare and the nervous boy would probably do it for him. But no, sadly he still had that annoying thing called a conscience so likely he would just have to wake up an hour early to try to wade through it again. Sometimes he really hated his life.

‘Ping’

Harry grabbed his pillow and stuffed it over his head, starting to hum to himself in hopes of drowning it out.

‘ping’

Nope- he could still hear the damn thing…if only a little more muffled. Groaning, he tossed aside the pillow and forced himself up from his previously prone position. He did not care at the moment that Sebastian would likely flip out on him for ‘invading his privacy’ or some such malarkey (because really they shared a room little over a hundred square feet—there was no such thing as ‘privacy’) as he snatched the devil device off of Sebastian’s bed, flipping it open in order to find a way to silence the stupid thing.

He knew he shouldn’t but he just couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the message box and felt his stomach drop. Curiosity killed the cat and all that--- he had suspected that it was Blaine texting but seeing proof was somehow so much worse; especially when Sebastian’s entire inbox was filled with texts from just one recipient.

Viciously he smashed down his body’s traitorous reaction to what he shouldn’t even care about, before scanning the phone; finally finding the volume button on the side and pressing mute. Tossing the phone back on Sebastian’s bed, he moved back to his own side of the room and grabbed the novel he had started reading yesterday (he had given up on mandarin; apparently he wasn’t about to discover he was a secret language prodigy after all) anxious to get himself back under control before Sebastian returned.

He didn’t know why he was reacting this way--it wasn’t as if he hadn’t suspected that Sebastian and Blaine had history that was obviously not entirely history as of yet; but yet again he felt as if he had been sucker punched. Honestly it was pathetic.

Closing his eyes he focused on increasing his occlumency shields (after Sirius’s death he had finally gotten his act together and made himself learn the mind art—turns out that he wasn’t half bad at it when given proper instruction) quickly becoming lost in the relative calm of his mind and magic.

So lost in his own mind was he, that he failed to notice Sebastian come back into the room.

He also missed the slightly concerned look the brunette shot his way entirely.

\---00-----

“….and then Rachel decided to pair apricot colored pillows with the alizarin crimson throw I brought! I mean don’t get me wrong I love that girl but honestly Finn, she is completely hopeless when it comes to the feng shui of a room” Kurt finished with an irritated huff.

“Fen what now? Why don’t you just get pizza?” Finn asked the crinkle between his eyes illustrating just how confusing he found their current conversation.

Kurt didn’t even know how to answer that….which unfortunately happened fairly often when talking with his step-brother over skype. He loved the big oaf but love didn’t erase the fact that they were not the best conversational pairing to be had—and to think he had once had a crush on this boy. Shudder—thank Madonna his tastes had matured since then, and he had managed to bag himself a boy who was both easy on the eyes and knew what was going on in current fashion trends (not that you would know it from his wardrobe mind you—but hey no one was perfect. Well, outside him that is).

Although Blaine was the whole reason he was currently talking to his step brother in the first place. Despite the two of them having put a large effort into keeping in touch since Kurt moved up to New York—which in Blaine’s favor, the curly haired brunette had been very supportive about; almost eager in fact--- Kurt couldn’t help but notice that his boyfriend had become more and more distant in the past month. At first he wrote it off as an adjustment period for both of them—after all they were used to seeing each other almost every day if not a few times a day, so to be living so many hours apart was going to take some time to get used to. But as one week became two, which morphed into three, Kurt had started to become a tad worried.

While sure, he had been quite busy himself since moving up here and landing an intern job at vogue (something that may have been mentioned in everyone of his facebook posts in the last month—along with his daily attached wardrobe and critique of several other people’s wardrobes….like come on Blaine—socks anyone?) and meeting and ‘b _efriending_ ’ Adam… he had still expected Blaine to be waiting eagerly for his updates; dying to know just how exciting life was up here in New York. Instead his boyfriend was not waiting patiently by his phone for Kurt to call—in fact even when they did manage to connect there was something off. True, Blaine listened and made the right comments in the right places but it seemed more of an automatic response then one he made because he actually wanted to know.

He couldn’t’ stop his suspicious mind from plaguing him with cruel taunting little thoughts. What if Blaine had decided the distance was too much? What if he had met someone else? Would his boyfriend cheat on him? What exactly was Blaine up to these days?--(well besides hanging out with Tina and Sam and attending that lame superhero club—honestly sometimes he worried about Blaine’s maturity).

But anyway getting back to the original point he was trying to make…Blaine’s change of behavior was one of the main reasons that he was being forced to endure conversing with his less then brilliant step-brother,** he needed to convince Finn to keep an eye on things. Easier said than done of course, as he knew Finn would object to spying on anyone (even if it was Blaine-whom his step brother had never really warmed up to, even after they had semi-reached a truce).

Deciding it was time to turn the conversation in a direction in which he could bring up the topic he cleared his throat, “So….how are things back in Lima?”

Despite really not giving two tweets about Lima, the garage or whatever was going on between Finn and the gas station attendant, the huge smile on Finn’s face almost made it worth asking---almost. After listening to a few minutes of truly tedious information, Kurt decided to intervene.

“hmm…that’s lovely Finn, I’m sure she is really going places what with her illegitimate child and minimum wage job—sounds like a keeper” thankfully Finn either didn’t recognize the derogatory sarcasm the statement was said in, or just chose to willfully ignore it—with Finn you could never really tell. “Hey, how is Blaine doing? What’s he been up to?” Kurt asked voice full of innocence.

There was a long pause, and he saw his step-brother’s eye brows scrunch back up in confusion, “Shouldn’t you know? I mean you talk to him way more then I see him…” a small amount of suspicion creeping into the question.

“Of course!” Kurt defended quickly, “…it’s just that we usually talk a lot more about New York and what is going on with me….you know how it is---there is only so much time we have to talk and such….” Kurt trailed off before clearing his throat to try again when the crease between Finn’s brows didn’t leave, “I’m just worried about him is all….he sounded…well, different the last few times I talked to him. I’m worried that our distance is affecting him more than he is letting on.” There that sounded appropriate for a worried boyfriend to say—not something a paranoid suspicious one would say.

“I’m just worried—what with Symthe being back in town….you know how the meekrat is; how he likes to play head games” Kurt added infusing the perfect amount of concern and worry into his voice. And it worked, just like that Finn’s expression changed from uncomfortable and suspicious to concerned and sympathetic.

“I get it….I worry about Rach too…even-even though we aren’t, well we’re no longer together” Finn admitted, causing Kurt to force himself to resist rolling his eyes. He had not brought up this topic to hear more of Finn’s angst over the Rachel-Finn breakup saga….honestly!

Kurt made a sympathetic hum before taking hold of the conversation again, “I completely understand….hey, why don’t we help each other out—while helping them out!” Kurt exclaimed, eager to lay out the bait and have it grabbed. And bless Finn—grab he did.

“Um sure…..wait, how do we do that?” Finn’s excited face morphed back into the fast becoming familiar confused expression.

Resisting the urge to sigh Kurt plastered a smile on his face, “Well…..why don’t I keep an eye on Rachel for you—let you know what she is up to, who she is spending time with etc….and you do the same with Blaine?”

Finn looked a little unsure but Kurt could see the desire to take Kurt up on his suggestion flickering across his face, “But…but wouldn’t that be an infestation of their-their you know private stuff and such?”

“invasion Finn,” Kurt corrected before continuing, “and no, we are only doing this for their own good…I mean Sebastian is poison….I’m only looking out for Blaine, as for Rachel she is a little naïve….she doesn’t understand how city guys operate. So really we are only protecting them” Kurt said in a confident voice seeing exactly when he won Finn over—really if he wasn’t so sure he was going to make it big in fashion and Broadway he should have become a lawyer.

“o-ok…you’re right…..so how should I do this?” Finn agreed still sounding a tad unsure but determined none the less.

Kurt sent him a real smile for once, “well….when I last talked to Blaine he said he was having coffee with the Warblers on Wednesday……”

And so they began to plot.

\---oo-----

Blaine twisted the strap of his school satchel (or as Tina had taken to calling it; his man purse) nervously as he entered the Lima Bean. Really, it was ridiculous that he was getting so worked up over something as simple as a coffee….a coffee with his old friends for that matter. But of course it wasn’t going to only be his old friends—no, Thad had assured him that Sebastian was coming along, which of course made sense considering he was one of the co-captains* of the Warblers now.

While they had resumed what Blaine wanted to call friendship via several text messages (perhaps of a slightly flirty nature) they had yet to meet up face to face. And to be honest Blaine wasn’t sure if he was dreading or anticipating seeing the other boy. Of course there was also a solid weight of guilt lodged in his stomach over the whole meeting as well…..

He told himself that he was being ridiculous, there was absolutely no reason why he should feel guilty about going for coffee with friends—even if he had maybe avoided mentioning to Kurt that a certain someone was included in said coffee date. Not that it should matter of course, after all Sebastian and him were barely friends; there was nothing wrong with him seeing the other boy….at least that was what he had been attempting to convince himself of since he had woken up this morning. Shaking his head mentally he resolutely dismissed these thoughts as he caught sight of a several navy blazers.

He didn’t even try to hide the smile that found its way onto his face at the sight of his former team. While sure, there had been a bit of tension between him and the rest of his former friends since the slushie incident—they had all apologized profusely and begged for forgiveness, which he had long since granted. They might still be a little awkward and unsure around each other but it would take more than one horrible incident to truly crush the kind of friendship that they had developed in their time together as Warlblers.

“Blaine!” Trent cried out when he caught sight of the former lead soloist before rushing forward in greeting. It didn’t take long before Blaine found himself the center of a warped vertical warbler doggy pile. It could be the reason that he failed to notice the extra bodies for as long as he did.

When the rest of his former team mates finally parted enough so that they could all make their way over to one of the larger tables in the room, he finally noticed, not only Sebastian standing slightly off to the side but two other boys as well. One was a slighter boy who in all honesty looked like he needed a few good meals, not to mention how friggen pale the boy was—despite that it was easy to tell that the boy was rather striking. And odd mix of beautiful features tossed together with razor sharp ones—it gave him an oddly exotic and unique look. The other boy that Blaine didn’t recognize ran much more along the lines of Sebastian’s look and build—very Abercrombie; he too was not hard on the eyes. With a slight sinking feeling in his gut --which he did not care to examine or explain-- Blaine came to the conclusion that these were the two boys that Kurt had been bitching about seeing with Sebastian….which meant that one of these boys was Sebastian’s husband. And didn’t that thought feel like a kick in the gut.

One thing was for sure, the dark haired boy did not look very thrilled to be there. Doing his best to ignore the strange urge that had him wanting to squirm uncomfortably when he met the unknown boys green eyes, he turned towards Sebastian fighting down the second annoying urge to blush. But dammit Sebastian had always had that affect on him—of course his ‘innuendo laden commentary’ had done nothing to quell this urge.

“Sebastian, how are you?” Blaine asked politely feeling rather awkward at his formal greeting.

“Hey Killer, looking good” Sebastian replied with his trademark smirk. Too busy blushing at the relatively mild comment Blaine missed the slight narrowing of the one boy’s eyes and the gleeful satisfaction in the others.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us love?” the green eyed boy asked innocently stepping forward and batting his admittedly long eyelashes at Sebastian.

The urge to squirm in discomfort increased as Sebastian shot what could only be a called a poisonous glare towards the boy. “Of course” he bit out before turning back to Blaine, terse smile straining his face. “Harry, Hunter this is Blaine...he’s…” Sebastian paused to find the correct word to describe who exactly Blaine was.

It wasn’t needed as Harry step forward a half step and extended his hand, giving Blaine a sharp smile, “he’s THE Blaine Anderson of course…..I’ve heard so much, pleasure”

Blaine gave him his own shaky smile somehow very much doubting the sincerity behind those words. Sebastian coughed before resuming the introductions, “and Blaine this is Hunter”—he gestured to the Abercrombie wanna-be still standing slightly behind Sebastian and Harry, “… and Harry” he finished.

It was Hunter this time that interrupted, “…the other co-captain” he gestured to himself ”…and the husband” he supplied helpfully pointing to Harry, though once again Blaine had reason to doubt just how helpful he was trying to be judging from the tick in Sebastian’s jaw.

The quartet stood there is strained silence for a few second before Jeff bubbly (perhaps a tad forced) interrupted, “well….now that introductions are out of the way, why don’t we all sit and catch up!”

It took a few minutes of shuffling and sugar coated insults but soon enough the trio, along with the rest of the Warblers (aka: Thad, Trent, Jeff, Nick, James, Beat and another recent edition Cam), and Blaine were all seated with their favored beverage. Blaine couldn’t help but agree with Kurt’s assessment of Sebastian’s husband given his icy demeanor and sharp jibes at everything from the quality of the coffee to Sebastian’s face (okay, so that last one wasn’t literal but it might as well have been given the amount of tension stretched out between the two of them). If he was being honest with himself he could not help but feel thoroughly intimidated by the fey looking boy.  

The next half an hour passed with relative ease, easy questions concerning how the warblers were doing, how the new directions song choices were coming along, and how the graduated Warblers were. Overall Blaine was feeling pretty good with the whole affair—and if he snuck a few more peaks over at Sebastian than was strictly necessary, then no one was the wiser….or at least he hoped so, though judging by Harry’s continued aloofness towards him, he wasn’t so sure his interest was entirely unnoted.

“So, you’ve told us about how your ‘glee’ club is….but how are you surviving in the barbaric halls of McKinley now that the princess is gone, ready to come back to good old Dalton yet?” Sebastian asked his tone teasing, although perhaps a little less so on the princes part.

It just so happened that this was the comment that caught Harry’s attention, “Barbaric halls? Princess?” he asked arching an eyebrow in question.

“Yes, if you had been following along you would know that Blaine here goes to McKinley” Sebastian replied a tad snippy, while wrinkling his noise in distaste at the mention of McKinley.

“And?” Harry asked again his tone indicating he had no idea what that had to do with anything.

“McKinley is Lima’s public school” Nick offered, and while it was clear what he thought of such a thing as public schools; he did manage to hide his contempt better then Sebastian at the idea.

Blaine was not the only one who was startled by the bark of laughter that came from the British teen, “Seriously?” Harry asked incredulously, causing Blaine to bristle with indignation—while he was all too familiar with the Warbler’s, and more so, Sebastian’s opinion on McKinley (and to be honest his own) that gave the teen no right to mock it when he hadn’t even been there! He was about to open his mouth and state just that when his mental-planned-to-be-verbal tirade was cut off.

Still chuckling in disbelief Harry took a sip of his coffee, “honestly dear I had no idea you were such a snob….tell me is it the lack of blazers that offends your sensibilities so?”

“no it’s the general lack of education, the disgusting hygiene of 90% of the student body and the blatant bullying by teachers and students actually” Sebastian shot back, “why? it’s not like you have ever experienced a public school to be able to defend it so” he added the last bit with more than a little bite.

Instead of making the teen shrink back in chagrin however his comment just made Harry smile wider—although the smile was not the friendly kind, “…didn’t you know Sebastian? you married a commoner more or less. I was entirely what you would deem a commoner up until my sixteenth birthday. Not to mention, wasn’t it just the other day that some poor little freshmen was found crying in the bathroom because one of the teachers told him that he was a disgrace to the Dalton establishment and that he should look in a mirror before coming to class?—correct me if I am wrong, but I am pretty sure there is bullying regardless if you attend a public or private school. It’s just better covered up in the latter.”

As it was, his comment just made everyone gape at him but Blaine for his part was marginally impressed—so perhaps his and Kurt’s assessment was not entirely spot on; although the teen was still incredibly cold and unfriendly, not to mention in possession of an acid tongue.

Ignoring the looks he was getting (some ashamed, others angry and indignant—most likely for having dared to compare the private and public school in any manner) Harry took another sip of his coffee and opened his mouth once more, “and the princess comment?”

Sebastian seemed to wrestle with himself on whether or not to addresses yet another one of Harry’s disrespectful comments or whether to shrug it off as Harry just being Harry (aka: rocking the boat as much as possible given any opportunity). With a sigh he apparently went with the second option, “Blaine’s b _oyfriend, Kurt…._ you met him…” Sebastian supplied sullenly, “We don’t exactly get along you could say”

Again Harry arched a brow but this time he turned to Blaine, “boyfriend?

Blaine shifted uncomfortably under the other teen’s scrutiny, knowing very well that he had not been exactly acting as though he had a boyfriend since he had arrived at the coffee shop. While true, he hadn’t been out right flirting with Sebastian or Sebastian with him (not like last year when Sebastian had been forthright about his interest), he could not deny that either of them had been entirely appropriate in their subtle (or not so) looks at one another. And while deep down he knew that this was wrong and incredibly rude (considering the other teen was not only married but that his spouse was present—not even touching on his whole having a boyfriend thing), he couldn’t help himself. Seeing Sebastian again—especially with how stifling and boring his relationship with Kurt had been for the past several months was like a breath of fresh air…. Well, fresh air tinged with danger and excitement—which as wrong as it was, was only enhanced with the whole illicit married thing.

“mmm….yeah, Kurt Hummel….we met when he transferred from McKinley to Dalton two years ago” Blaine admitted feeling like a child in front of a disproving parent.

“hmmm…” was all the dark haired teen had to say in response to that.

“How did you convince Kurt to let you come for coffee with us anyway?” Jeff asked his voice full of curiosity.

“er…what do you mean?” Blaine asked, although he was fairly certain he knew exactly what the blond met. Oh Jeff; eternally bubbly and optimistic if not a little dense in how to avoid bringing up uncomfortable and possibly volatile subjects….

“…it’s just that Kurt is a little um…. _protective_ when it comes to who you see and spend time, especially when it involves certain Warbler members….” Nick joined in when it looked as though Jeff wasn’t sure how to answer.

Blaine shifted again entirely uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going, “Imighthavefailedtotellhimwhoallwasgoing” Blaine mumbled blushing slightly when his guilty conscious reared its head again.

The look he received from the Brit did nothing to ease it. “Is there something I am unaware of?” Harry questioned, “Why would you need to hide going out for coffee with friends from your boyfriend?” he asked all too innocently.

“He just doesn’t like certain people….he’s protective as Nick said” Blaine snarked back his ire at the teen’s condescension and coldness finally bubbling over. Who did this teen think he was questioning his and Kurt’s relationship as he was? It was none of his business! He shoved down the inner voice that was asking him the same question in regards to Harry and Sebastian.

“Sounds controlling. One would wonder why you are with him if that’s the level of trust he has in you. Almost as though he is questioning your commitment or something” Harry stated the picture of nonchalance.

Blaine glared back at Harry, seething in righteous (or perhaps not entirely righteous) anger, “He trusts me” he ground out.

The green eyed boy only gave him a sardonic smile in reply.

\---00--

Finn hunched down in the uncomfortable metal backed chair that the Lima bean seemed to favor, doing his best to remain discrete and unnoticed. Of course it wasn’t exactly an easy task for someone of his height and weight but he figured he managed to do so remarkably well---like a super spy or something….all he needed now was one of those little robots that would zoom up unseen on his enemies and then BAM!

Ok, he was getting distracted again—that was bad, Kurt hated it when he got distracted; of course he used those big fancy designer words to make it sound like he really didn’t mind but you could tell that he did. Because despite what many people might believe Finn was not stupid.

Ok….well not entirely stupid, he knew things where it counted anyway; his brain just worked a bit differently, kinda like Brittany’s did though perhaps not to the same degree—but what he was trying to say was that he was not entirely oblivious towards Kurt’s intentions in having him come to the coffee shop to spy on Blaine for his ‘protection’. Sure, what Kurt said about taking care of their ‘loved ones’ and all that made sense but Finn knew his step brother well enough to know that there were parts of this that his brother wasn’t telling him.

Most people would wonder why he was going along with it then. Well, the easiest answer was that there were several reasons—each different and somewhat separate from one another. For one; like he said before, what Kurt said did kind of make sense—Rachel and Blaine were both without their significant others (even if Rachel technically was no longer his significant other—but details) and both would be particularly vulnerable to the influences (aka: taints) of less moral men. So, yes he could see the logic in both him and Kurt helping each other out while protecting the other’s partner from the likes of Sebastian Symthe and New York ‘performers’—or as Finn was convinced gigolos (Brody just sounded like a hooker name in his fine opinion).

The second reason might surprise some people but it really was the main reason he went along with Kurt’s schemes despite knowing he might come to regret his part in them. The second reason was simply that he felt that he owed Kurt. That’s right… it all came down to guilt.

Finn knew that he hadn’t been the most stand up guy through their high school years, what with first participating in the toss queers into garbage bins thing, then his poor reaction to finding out about Kurt’s crush on him, and finally the most damning of all his actions, his failure in standing up for his step brother during the Karofsky showdown…

It was true that he tried to console himself in the fact that if he had stopped Karofsky then Kurt would never have transferred to Dalton and therefore never met Blaine; who his brother told anyone who would listen was the love of his life etc ect (though with the way his brother had been talking about this Adam he had met, Finn had to wonder). Either way he would believe Kurt so by this logic, he was (in his mind at least) basically compelled to do something to help Kurt protect his relationship (even if he had not realized this until recently and had actually been kind of an ass to the ex-warbler at first). But that was the past—this was now!

So, long story short here he was sitting in the Lima Bean in order to spy—er keep an eye on Blaine and the Warblers (because really who trusts anyone in a blazer? Just screams criminal masterminds—bet they even had a fluffy white cat!), when he could be ~~stalking~~ —hanging out with Mandy from the gas station instead.

He sighed and wiggled a bit trying to ignore how numb his ass was getting from sitting in this position and turned his attention back to the table of visiting Warblers—really, he had always thought being a spy would be a life full of intrigue and excitement—somehow he was not getting either of those currently.

Fortunately, or unfortunately—depending on whom you ask—he tuned in just in time to hear a partial comment coming from the British teen that Kurt had complained about during one of their skype conversations.

The smooth somewhat melodic accented voice wafted just far enough for him to catch what it was saying, “Sounds controlling. One would wonder why you are with him if that’s the level of trust he has in you…” The teen went on to say something else but Finn missed it; far too angry at the part he did hear.

How dare this snobby, new comer talk to Blaine about Kurt behind his back?! Just who did he think he was? –because even though he hadn’t heard a name mentioned he knew that it was Kurt that was being discussed.

Well he wouldn’t stand for it! he had failed his step-brother far too many times in the past, he would NOT sit back and let this snooty teen come in and place doubts in Kurt’s boyfriend’s mind—hell no! He was going to go right over there and tell that puny runt just what he thought—call him out on his lies!

So, flushed with anger (because unfortunately Finn had always let his anger and emotions get in the way of what little sense he did possess) he pushed back his chair and marched over to where the teens were currently sitting. He reached out to grab the Brit’s shoulder (since he was facing away from where Finn had been sitting and he needed to get his attention if he was going to give him a verbal dress down) but just as his fingers brushed the dark Dalton blazer several things happened at once.

He didn’t even have time to register the vice like grip on his wrist—which honestly felt like it was going to snap—before the previously seated teen had somehow managed to spin and vault out of his chair and to cause Finn slam back into the floor. Pain ricocheted up his back and centered around the part of his head that had hit the floor on landing, knocking the breath out of him with a large “umph.”

When the world stopped spinning, he didn’t even notice the cold hard metal pressed to the side of his neck, he was far too preoccupied with the pair of murderous green eyes glaring down at him.

\--00---

It took Sebastian a few seconds to register what he was seeing, for this outcome had most definitely not been anticipated when he had heard Hunter convince Ha—no, Potter to come with for coffee and conversation.

What was even more disconcerting was how….well, cough _turned on_ he was by the sight of Harry dominating someone that much larger than him with such apparent ease. Really, he should not be paying more attention to the way all of the raven haired teen’s muscles seemed to tense and coil underneath the white Dalton issued dress shirt (that was now just visible thanks to the Brit’s blazer being pushed up during the tussle…okay, lack of tussle since it basically consisted of Harry slamming…Finn was it?...to the floor in a blink of an eye) than the fact that his bonded was currently pressing a fork to the unfortunate teen’s carotid.

This really did not have a whole lot of positive outcomes—and despite a tiny-little voice in the back of his head finding it rather amusing that the large ex-footballer was so easy to take down, he didn’t really want to see the idiot die because he startled Harry….which was apparently a _very_ bad idea.

The entire group had fallen silent in shock, only able to gape at the scene before them—and Sebastian thanked every deity he knew for the small mercy that the coffee shop was basically deserted outside their own group and Finn Hudson (he wasn’t counting the staff because—well, they were servers and really didn’t count in his opinion—especially given that they were in the back smoking what smelt like a joint at the moment).

It was the rigid tension and absolute stillness that Harry’s body held crouched down over Hudson that finally made Sebastian act. It was obvious that the wizard was no longer aware of his surroundings or the lack of threat in front of him—it was like his rational mind had shut down and was simply reacting like a cornered animal—lashing out in a desperate attempt to protect himself. Sebastian didn’t even know why he did it—what insane instinct had him slowly approaching the two fallen teens. Looking back on it, it really was a rather stupid thing for him to do. But he did it anyway.

And the crazy part of it all was that it seemed to work.

“Harry” he said quietly but firmly. When he got no reaction positive or negative he continued his slow advance, careful to move closer to the ground so that his head was at the same level as Harry’s. “Harry” he said again, “Harry look at me”

Still no response… although there seemed to be a slight easing in the tension of the teen’s shoulders. By now Sebastian was well within touching distance and from this angle he could clearly see Finn’s wide eyes—pupils dilated in fear. Sebastian was honestly surprised that the moron hadn’t wet himself—not that he could exactly blame him; the dead look in those green eyes was one of the most terrifying sights Sebastian had ever seen.

Throwing what little sense he had left—along with his self preservation out the window, Sebastian reached out slowly and wrapped one hand around the wrist that was currently holding the fork-turned-weapon and the other around the teen’s slim waist. “come on Harry let go….look at him, he’s not a threat. He won’t hurt you….” Sebastian whispered soothingly into Harry’s ear.

He could see the exact moment clarity came to his husband, Harry’s whole body going slack the fork clattering to the floor. The teen’s face dawning a look of horror as he realized what had happened-what he had just done.

“Oh…merlin” Harry choked out face pale, eyes filled with regret and embarrassment. Sebastian could feel the Harry’s slim body press back against him in panic, trying to put distance between himself and the supine Finn.

Sebastian slowly let go and moved backwards to allow Harry movement, sure that whatever had just happened had passed.

“I- I‘m so sorry…I-are you okay?” Harry managed to stutter out looking down at Finn face flushing in humiliation.

Finn sat up slowly and somewhat cautiously giving his head a shake as though to clear out his confusion, Sebastian somehow doubted that would help, ”er….yeah? I think so?” Finn answered still sounding rather dazed.

“I…” Harry started again his panicked eyes darting from face to face….”…sorry” he whispered before turning abruptly and walked as fast as humanly possible out of the coffee shop.

There was a silence that seemed to stretch out and strangle everything within touching distance as Sebastian watched Harry’s fleeing back….he should see if he was alright—he should find out what the hell that was—he should….

“Go after him” Hunter said quietly, pushing gently on Sebastian’s shoulder.

And for once Sebastian agreed.

\--00---

Harry could feel him following. Slowly as he gained some distance from the coffee shop and everyone _staring_ at him his heart rate steadied and his panicked breaths slowed. He was being completely and utterly pathetic…he just couldn’t get rid of the overwhelming guilt and embarrassment that seemed like it was waiting to swallow him whole.

What the hell was that back there? He knew he had been teetering on the edge of well… _sanity_ since the moment he raised his wand and faced the being who was more monster then man, but he had thought that he was slowly healing—getting better. The last half an hour blew that theory to hell-that was for sure.

He was so far from okay; the very thought of what he had just done and what he could have done if Sebastian hadn’t pulled him back terrified him. The teen who touched his shoulder had no idea how close he had come from becoming a corpse—the very thought made it difficult for Harry to draw in a breath. Thank merlin he had stopped carrying his wand around with him since he had come to Ohio….there’s no telling what might have happened had he had it on him.

Merlin, maybe all those people back in his fifth year were right; he was a danger, a menace…unstable. Perhaps it would be better if they locked him up…at least that way he wouldn’t accidently murder some poor muggle teenager.

He sighed, running a hand through his ever messy locks as he sank down onto the ice coated park bench, staring morosely at his hands. He didn’t bother to look up when he felt the warmth of another body sit down beside him….he knew who it was—the bond ensured that he could recognize his bond mate anywhere.

They sat in silence, the slightly muted hum of traffic passing mixed in with one brave little song bird’s trills were the only sounds breaking the cold winter air. The silence was neither comfortable or uncomfortable; it just was.

“What are you doing here?” Harry finally asked, weariness leaking into his voice, “You should be back with the others”

When Sebastian didn’t answer Harry risked a peek, looking over at the other teen through the fringe of his bangs.

Sebastian wasn’t looking at him, instead staring straight ahead as though the empty park in front of them held all of the secrets of the universe just waiting to be revealed. “Are you okay?” he finally asked.

Harry felt something akin to surprise only to be followed by a deeper wave of shame….merlin he was a mess, a mess that because of their bond, was not only dragging him down but Sebastian as well. While he had sat here wondering how in the world he was going to be able to face the group he had left back in the coffee shop again, he hadn’t factored how his actions would reflect on Sebastian.

Sebastian’s team mates—his friends, had no idea that neither of them had a choice in this marriage, they didn’t know that Sebastian hadn’t willingly married a nut-job like him….and as much as he had enjoyed annoying and irritating the brunette; no one deserved to be saddled with him.

Even while suffocating in his own shame and remorse he picked up on something different in Sebastian’s tone—the brunette almost sounded concerned about him. The moment he thought that he mentally slapped himself; of course Sebastian was concerned—likely worried that his ‘husband’ was going to lose his shit again and attack some other poor soul. Not that Harry could blame him for this worry.

He sighed again, rubbing his eyes wearily, “Yeah….I-I just need a few minutes to calm down” he finally answered the other teens question. He wasn’t lying exactly, he wasn’t alright no,—but he was no longer in danger of losing himself, at least of that he was sure.

Sebastian turned his attention from the deserted jungle gym to study the wizard beside him before shifting, a look of discomfort pulling at the corners of his eyes, “W-What was that?” he asked so quietly that Harry almost missed it.

What was that? –and wasn’t that a good question? The problem was that Harry had no idea what that was. Well, no that is a lie…he had some inkling….it had happened once before; a week after the final battle.

At the time Harry was still operating on adrenalin, his injuries were not entirely healed and after months on the run it was fair to say he was a tad twitchy and trigger happy; one particularly annoying and persistent reporter learned that the hard way.

The man—no vulture (as Ron had taken to calling Rita’s replacement; a nasty breed of human by the name of Garth) listened to the newly coined vanquisher’s request for privacy and promptly ignored it. His stalking had kicked up to the point of obsessive when he had made the mistake of leaping out at Harry and flashing a camera in the saviors face….the movement and flash had startled the battle weary wizard, and similar to what had happened in the coffee shop Harry’s mind had taken a back seat to his war instincts. The man was hospitalized with a broken femur, dislocated shoulder and several broken ribs.

Of course being who Harry was and having defeated Voldemort not even a week earlier had been enough for the whole incident to be swept under the rug—Kingsley reassuring him that it was natural and nothing to worry about. That he was simply tired and stressed out after fighting for so long and that with time and distance there would be nothing to worry about. Of course Hermione had nagged him to go and see a mind healer—to get help to process and move past the rather numerous trauma’s he had experienced in his young life. At the time he had chosen to believe Kingsley over his friend….now he wondered if he had made a horrible mistake.

“I….I don’t know” he finally settled on. He could sense Sebastian giving him a skeptical look and he sighed again, knowing that he had to give the brunette something, “look….being the center of a war wasn’t all sunshine and unicorns, my head’s not the nicest of places….I-I didn’t mean to snap like that. It-It won’t happen again” –and it wouldn’t, he would make sure…if it took him pushing aside his pride and taking Hermione’s advice then he would do it. He wouldn’t, no he couldn’t, risk continuing to walk around like a ticking time bomb—it was only a matter of time before he blew up and who knows who he could hurt next time?

Sebastian continued to look at him, the creases at the corner of his eyes not disappearing with Harry’s words, “…can I..” he started before stopping clenching his fists in a nervous tick, “look….I know we don’t really know much about each other, or even like each other…but-but if you need help….” He trailed off looking away from the wizard.

Harry sighed to himself, as much as he would love to take the other teen up on his offer of help, of getting to know each other—he knew that he wouldn’t, that he couldn’t. Sebastian was already at risk just for sharing a room with Harry; even if the teen had somehow managed to pull him out of ‘the zone’, there was no guarantee that he would be able to do it the next time Harry lost his shit…so no, distance was better—safer.

“No, I’m fine…really. Thank you for the offer but I just need to be alone right now. Please just go back and finish your visit with your friends….It’s better if you just leave me alone” Harry said infusing his words with steel.

Sebastian looked like he was going to argue for a moment but the look that Harry shot him had him backing down. He stood up and shot one more look at Harry before turning and walking back towards the coffee shop.

He would not second guess his decision—he had always been alone, it was better for everyone this way.  

Harry closed his eyes and ignored the way the bond was suddenly aching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Finn never joined the army in this timeline, instead he stayed in Lima and took a job helping Burt out at the garage. Also Kurt moved up to New York later in my story—late October, early November.
> 
> *I am not actually sure if Sebastian and Hunter were ever co-captains or if Sebastian simply resumed his prior post after Hunter was kicked out for the whole drugs scandal. For this story I am completely disregarding the drug-stealing trophy etc story arc (because they were stupid in my opinion) and am making hunter and Sebastian share the captain spot ;) don’t like it—too bad, suck a wooly sock. Jk….but seriously it’s just how it’s going to be so don’t send me a howler (see what I did there? Using harry potter refences….smirk). 
> 
> Song artist and song: Morrissey: November spawned a monster


	8. Jealous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! thanks for all of your lovely reviews and suggestions. Here is the next chapter-I found it strangely hard to write so hopefully it turned out ok. It is the ending of the angst for a bit, while there is still angst in this chapter there is also a tiny bit of slash (if you squint) and the beginning of fluff-our boys are starting to come to some conclusions about themselves adn their relationship...yay! 
> 
> Let me know what you think. next chaper-major progress in thier relationship.

 

**\---oo----**

_I don’t like the way he’s looking at you I’m starting to think you want him too Am I crazy, have I lost ya?_

**\----00----**

**_Late November- Early December_ **

Apparently fate, the goddess, the one and the only holy ruler (and probably Buddha too) were against him—well that, or he was simply terrible at making a decision and sticking to it. Not that circumstances or other people were helping with his resolution of self isolation. If anything it seemed as though many—but mainly Hunter took his sudden increase in antisocial behavior as a challenge.

While the entire group of Warblers—including Hunter had kept their distance for a week after the coffee house incident (and yes apparently he now had a coined incident as well—see? Maybe he and Sebastian were not so poorly matched after all) it seemed as though distance and time had eased their apprehension over him and his actions (much to his chagrin; do you have any idea of how hard it is to avoid people who do not want to be avoided?).

Surprisingly it was Trent of all people who first broke the unspoken ‘avoid explosive Brit’ rule….and broke it to ask for help in math of all things! –honestly sometimes he was pretty sure whoever was in control up their just loved to make his life ironic. Of course he had been absolutely no help at all to the chubby Warbler but that didn’t seem to matter in the long run, as the rest of the group (and by association the rest of the school) saw the interaction and somehow came to the conclusion that he was once again approachable; and more importantly, needed their kindness to heal his troubled soul.

He really couldn’t say he appreciated that conclusion—but it wasn’t like he could exactly argue with the troubled soul bit….

So, for the past few days he had found himself continuously invited to have lunch with this person, or to pair up as lab partners with that person….worse was the fact that whatever this thing was, people had decided that it was okay to now knock on his and Sebastian’s door to come ‘visit’ him of all things! He couldn’t tell if his roommate was more annoyed by the continuous interruptions or amused at Harry’s exasperation and despair….knowing Sebastian it was likely a healthy mix of the two.

It was incredibly hard to avoid everyone (for their own protection of course…weeelll, maybe protecting what little remaining sanity he had left was also a part of it) when they simply refused to let him. He had finally caved to the pressure and their incessant hounding by making a deal. A deal, that he had a large nasty feeling was going to come and bite him in the ass.

He had agreed to go out with them Friday night (and by them; he meant Hunter and whomever he scrounged up) without complaint or having to be bodily dragged if—and only if they agreed to cease stopping by to ‘visit’. He still was a little suspicious that they were only stopping by to make sure that Sebastian was still alive and not stuffed in Harry’s large trunk (he couldn’t go to school—no matter if it was nonmagical without his trusty Hogwarts trunk. It was just another thing that made him slightly odd, but damn if he cared).

The deal was really the reason why he was once again hunched over the torture device he called his calculus text trying desperately to make sense of the confusing instructions contained within. Merlin he hated this subject….and its instructor. Ok, so that was not entirely fair….it wasn’t as though the instructor was a horrible, biased bully like a certain hooked nose potions professor, but the woman wasn’t a very good instructor either. She knew what she was talking about no doubt; she just had no idea on how to relay that knowledge. Harry was starting to wonder if she had chosen this particular text book solely for the reason that it was just as hard as she was to understand.

And he couldn’t wait until later to finish this assignment (that just happened to be worth a good 15% of his final grade) as he had to fulfill his end of the agreement and go out with Hunter--and the rest of the warblers; if his suspicions were correct-- tonight (rubbing sore and bitten ass right now).

He hated not being able to get this….it really shouldn’t be that difficult; for cripe sake he could turn into a bloody animal but he couldn’t figure out how to manipulate a limit? His bloody life was based around the fact that there was no such thing as limits (not if your Harry Potter anyway). He had done this particular group of problems three times from start to finish and still could not get the answer he was suppose to….it was driving him up the wall!

As his temper and frustration increased so did his angry muttering, it was only after he noticed a shadow slanting over his messy pages that he realized that he was no longer the only one in the room. And it was only the feel of the bond settling that stopped him from startling (and potentially reacting violently). The bond of course would recognize this person anywhere and was only too happy to be this close to them—despite what Harry himself wanted.

“That’s wrong you know” his always helpful bond mate stated. Harry ground his teeth together to stop him from snapping back at Sebastian.

“Yes….I realize that. Thank you.” He muttered petulantly. And just why did Sebastian have to ignore the big blinking sign on Harry’s forehead that stated avoid at all cost?

“And why are you using that approach?” Sebastian asked continuing to blithely ignore the warning signs Harry was flinging at him mentally.

That caused Harry to scrunch his nose up in confusion and look down once more at the equation in question, “What do you mean? That’s how the text book says you’re supposed to do it.” Harry argued not sure what the brunette was getting at.

“Yeah the most confusing and backwards way of doing it….don’t you understand what you are suppose to be doing? You can’t just follow the same steps for every question, you have to understand the process then change it depending on what you are given” Sebastian lectured as though Harry was a complete moron.

This time the wizard didn’t suppress his urge to snarl completely, as he ripped the pages Sebastian was looking at away from him and shifted so that the other teen could no longer see them. “The book doesn’t say that” he bit out. He suddenly wanted to laugh at how ridiculous his statement was—since when had he turned into Hermione? How many times in the past had he argued with her that following information or instructions given in a book might not always end in the right result?

He sighed and placed his unfinished assignment on the small student desk before closing the textbook.”I’m not really this kind of learner” he stated, trying to explain to Sebastian just why he was having so much difficulty doing something that the rest of the class seemed to take in stride. “I didn’t take Arithmancy in Hogwarts so before coming to Dalton my math experience consisted doing my idiot cousin’s summer assignments once a year. Despite studying math with the rest of the muggle classes before coming here, I cannot keep up with Mrs. Heks explanations…though I’m not sure I would be able to follow her even if I had the necessary background. The text book is basically a written version of her lectures so it makes just about as much sense. I learn by doing or by written instruction that uses examples that are in English….examples which actually apply to stuff. This” Harry waved a hand at his textbook and assignment, “has no application that I can see”

“Of course it does!” Sebastian argued again—and Harry was slightly taken back by just how passionate the brunette was getting….

But before Sebastian could continue his verbal defense of the glorious subject of math there was a sharp rap on the door, followed by Hunter poking his head in.

“Hey! I know, I know…I’m not breaking our deal just wanted to see if you had started to get ready yet…..” he trailed off looking at both of them, “…which apparently you have not. We are leaving in less than an hour and I will drag you out of here regardless if you are stark naked or wearing your grandmothers draws so I suggest you get changed….both of you” he shot them a pointed look before retreating and letting the door click shut.

Caught between relief (at getting out of whatever argument and discussion he and Sebastian had been about to have) and annoyance (at having run out of time to figure out his assignment) Harry pushed back from the desk and stretched, sighing in relief as he heard the cracks run down his spine (while missing the way Sebastian’s eyes fixated on the sight).

“Sebastian?” he asked voice full of question as to why Sebastian was still standing their frozen instead of heeding Hunters warning.

Sebastian coughed and spun around abruptly, ducking to hide an embarrassed flush as he grabbed the supplies he needed for a quick shower. Harry stood there for a moment longer before shrugging to do the same.  

He could grudgingly admit (to himself at least) that he might be a little excited to go out and let loose for a night. Considering he had only recently discovered the attraction of alcohol, music and people looking to let go of their inhibitions (running from Voldmort really limited one’s ability to go out), and then after discovering such wonders had the experience ruined by a certain unintended bonding….he could really use a night of fun that didn’t end up in disaster.

Well no one could deny that he was an optimist.

\---00---

Sam scanned the crowded bar trying to come off as nonchalant about this whole thing—he really was trying, but he had to admit he was feeling just a little uncomfortable with the whole gay part of the night. Don’t get him wrong! He was not a homophobe and definitely did not have an issue with gay people—his best friend was gay after all and he would do just about anything to support Blaine, but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t nervous when he first walked into Scandals.

And he didn’t think anyone could blame him for his hesitance—I mean his only real experience with bars was when he was stripping in one…not exactly what you would call a hallmark memory or anything. Not to mention he, White chocolate, who was 100% straight was walking into an establishment packed with guys who were definitely not…it’s not like he could blame them if they couldn’t resist. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped eating those Doritos this afternoon…..

No! enough he was here for Blaine, as were Tina, Kitty, and Ryder….well okay, he and Tina were here for Blaine; he wasn’t entirely sure why Ryder and Kitty had decided to come along…it definitely had nothing to do with helping Blaine feel more comfortable around Sebastian and the rest of his friends. Which if you asked Sam his opinion he didn’t think that Blaine should be friends with any of them (hello eye surgery anyone?), he figured he should be more than enough for Blaine—and he supposed Tina was safe for Blaine to hang out with when he was busy. They were the Blond Chameleon and Nightbird after all, they were awesome!

Unfortunately, even with their awesome superhero get up and identities, Blaine was super excited to hang out with the Warblers again so who was Sam to say no? It was the damn puppy eyes--got him every time.

“I thought gay people were suppose to be cool…..and _clean_ ”

Well, that comment definitely belonged to Kitty, who was currently staring in disgust at the somewhat grungy looking bar and clientele interspersed throughout it. The next comment caught their whole group by surprise as it did not come from them,

“It is Ohio love….you take what you can get”

Ahhh...yes, he should have recognized that voice sooner—even if he had only interacted with the infamous Warbler a handful of times (he and Blaine hadn’t really been bro’s last year, Kurt was ok—but not the kind of person Sam wanted to hang out with) he was not someone you tended to forget.

“Sebastian!” Blaine greeted a huge grin stretching across his face—and wait a second! Why was Blaine smiling at the meekrat? (ok, so he was stealing names from Kurt now) He only ever gave Sam that smile and sometimes a smaller version to Tina….Sam frowned at the sight of Blaine giving Sebastian a quick hug but let it go, it wasn’t a big deal—Blaine gave him hugs all the time and they were just friends…so he was allowed to give Sebastian a hug as well (even if there was no way that Sebastian was as good of a friend as he was to Blaine).

“Glad you made it” Sebastian replied when they had separated before glancing up at the rest of their group, “oh good you brought people too….why don’t you all come over…we grabbed a booth in the back and we can get introductions and that shit out of the way?” he turned and started to weave his way across the dance floor, moving towards the far side of the bar; which true to his word was packed with tables and plastic covered booths.

Having no choice but to follow or continue to stand there like idiots, their odd little group chose the former.

“Oh! This is so exciting!” Tina hissed, although it came out as more of a squeal then a hiss. Sam chose to ignore her in favor of concentrating on dodging a guy who looked like he could easily take on a grizzly and win. As much as he liked Tina….she was rather over the top at times; like now for example.

“Oh shut it chop-suey, they aren’t serving rice here so there’s no need for you to get excited” Kitty snarked—and again, why had she come? Ahhh right…to act as the incredibly offensive peanut gallery.    

Not even a minute later their motley crew of misfits found themselves standing in a loose semi circle around a large curved back booth holding several teens; most who were vaguely familiar. There was an awkward pause in conversation as the seated group became aware of just who Sebastian had brought over. Thankfully Blaine seemed to decide that now was a good time to jump in with the introductions.

There was only a slight pause when it came to introducing the last member of the group, though Sam had to admit he was both surprised and slightly intrigued by the foreign teen. The surprise coming from the whole moving to America thing; oddly enough Sam was one of the few people who did not find it shocking that someone their age had gone and tied the knot…but then again he wasn’t a hypocrite (he STILL wasn’t sure if he and Brittany were still married or actually ever were….hmmm maybe he should look into that?). While he couldn’t help but be intrigued by the accent—maybe he could convince the teen…Harry? To start an affiliated branch to their superhero club; he was like a dark haired James Bond! And he even came with his own symbol planted on his forehead! It was like he was meant to be a superhero….he would have to talk to Blaine about the possibility later on—though oddly enough he had heard almost nothing about Sebastian’s new husband from his friend. Sure, Blaine had mentioned in passing that Sebastian had come back to Dalton with another boy and that both he and Kurt had met the teen but after that he just changed the subject; of course anytime Avatar was brought up Sam quickly forgot his original line of thinking and thus questioning….

Arg! There he went again…off on a tangent…focus Sam!—it wouldn’t do for him to get caught unaware when in a possibly dangerous setting (same point from before about white chocolate, not to mention the Warblers and New Directions weren’t exactly on the best of terms as of late; best keep his guard up until he could determine just what the Warbler’s purposes were regarding Blaine).

He forced himself back to the present noticing that the strained conversation was gradually getting more comfortable. Well, that was a good sign; it showed that the two groups could at least attempt civility for Blaine. He knew how much it would hurt his friend to have to choose between one or the other, of course not having Kurt here was helping that matter. It was safe to say that Kurt and Sebastian would likely never manage polite conversation-- of any kind—no matter how much their fighting hurt Blaine (another reason why Sam thought that neither Sebastian or Kurt were right for the curly haired brunette).

Still it was best to keep a wary eye on the situation yet….you just never knew.

And he was right to be concerned about what was happening between Blaine and Sebastian, though surprisingly enough he was a tad shocked to discover that it wasn’t even Sebastian who was in the wrong…at least not from what he was seeing.

No…if anything it was Blaine who was the instigator, though the warbler was not entirely blameless as he seemed to be returning Blaine’s flirtations easily enough. Although he did seem a tad more hesitant and kept shooting uncertain glances at the British teen, who was looking more and more surly as the night progressed.

But no. Sam had to be wrong….Blaine wouldn’t be flirting with someone who was obviously taken ( even if it was Symthe who, if Kurt was to be believed, _taken_ didn’t carry the same connotations as it did for most people)….no, he was imagining things. Blaine was simply a naturally flirty person that was all….yes, he was sure of it.

And yeeet…..

Well, one thing was sure this situation definitely warranted further monitoring. It was safe to say that the Blond Chameleon was on the job.

\-------------------00-

Blaine had been rather relieved in all truthfulness when his friends (both McKinley and Dalton based) had started to drift off towards either the bar, dance floor or outside. While he was appreciative that both Sam and Tina had agreed to tag along to help him feel a little more comfortable (since, even though he and the rest of his warbler buddies were moving back towards the relationship they once had, they weren’t quite there yet) but he still couldn’t help but feel a little relieved that they were no longer hovering over him watching his every move. And yes, a part of that feeling was coming from the guilt over his own actions.

However, once again he found himself unable to stop himself….it just seemed like flirting was his automatic reaction to Sebastian. And as much as he wanted to come up with a number of excuses, he knew that there really wasn’t any that excused what he was doing. Unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to make himself care over the right or wrong of the situation; a situation that had only been compounded by the fact that he had tried to skype Kurt earlier to tell him about his plans for the evening and to share the fact that he had gotten a role in the upcoming McKinley musical* only to find out that Kurt was once again too busy with Adam to have time to talk.

So yes, he had been perhaps pushing the line all night through his interactions with Sebastian…even if it seemed as though Sebastian was a little more reserved in his own responses. Now however, Blaine was beginning to think that the sudden absence of his friends was not necessarily a good thing….especially given the fact that he found himself sitting at the table with only one other person; Harry.

Maybe it was the universe’s way of doling out karmatic retribution—it could be said that it was only fair that he was left to face one of the people he was most definitely wronging with his continued advances on Sebastian. And if the look Harry was sending him was any indication, the Brit was well aware of his wrongs. Not good.

Well….maybe he could just play dumb and avoid the whole thing all together—true, it had like a 0.01% chance of working but Blaine would be the first to admit that he could be a coward when it came to things like confrontation. Not that his life experiences had helped with that fact—but even before the parking lot incident and coming out to his family he had been an avoider. Ah well…might as well give this a go.

Blaine shot Harry a small hesitant smile—one that was not returned—before forging ahead, “hey! So I know we haven’t really had a chance to talk or anything, but how are you liking Dalton? The guys are really great…” yup, that was indeed his lame attempt at small talk…the blank stare he was getting back was really not helping his coherency at all.

“Fine” Harry answered the words coming out short and clipped.

Blaine shifted, scanning the room anxiously as though praying that someone would come back and end his torture, “oh….um, that’s good…” the uncomfortable answer was followed by and even more uncomfortable silence before the ex-warbler decided to try again, “…so…you didn’t join the Warblers? Jeff mentioned that you turned them down….”

“I can’t sing”

Blaine had to stop himself from wringing his hands like a truant toddler, while he desperately searched for another topic to bring up; one that would get more than a few words out of the dark haired teen. “…and you are liking classes?”

Harry shot him a disdainful look before turning his body so that he was facing Blaine directly, “Look, Blaine was it? just stop. While I’m sure that deep down you are a nice guy, as dreamy and perfect as everyone swears you are…let’s get one thing clear. I do not like you. And I am sure you do not like me. I have absolutely no desire to sit here and make meaningless conversation with the _boy_ who has been throwing himself at my husband from the minute I met him. So please do us both a favor and don’t try to pretend that it is not happening, or that either of us is not aware that it is happening”

Blaine stared back at him in shock, he couldn’t believe that Harry had just come out and laid it out like that—and while yes, one might say that Harry was speaking the truth in regards to things…it…it wasn’t like that! Ok, so yes he was flirting with Sebastian, but he wasn’t throwing himself at him….not-not really….was he? “I-I…”

Harry sighed a deep exasperated sigh before cutting him off, “I get that there is a lot of history between you two, I get that I am new and no one knows how me and Sebastian got together or how our relationship works, but to be honest…it’s not really anybodies business but our own. And to be truthful Blaine….I don’t think you know what you want in regards to Sebastian. From what I have heard and witnessed, you already had your chance and you threw it away. The only reason that you are interested now is because you are afraid that you made the wrong choice. If you really care about Sebastian you will back off until you are both available. Otherwise you are just going to end up hurting not only him but your own relationship-- as questionable as it is”

Blaine could only nod in silent agreement, all words having left him at Harry’s speech. It was in that moment that he truly realized how selfish he had been behaving….there really was no other way to put it. What Harry said was true, while he had always enjoyed having Sebastian’s attention and flirty remarks directed towards him, he hadn’t actually started thinking about the brunette until both his own relationship had become dull and he had found out that Sebastian was involved with another. He had become one of his biggest pet peeves—a home wrecker!

Any further conversation was interrupted by the return of Thad, Ryder and Sebastian. The later surveyed the tense silence with concern. He moved to sit on the same side of the booth as Blaine was seated on and scooted over, placing a hand on the curly haired teen’s lower back. “Hey, is everything okay?”

Blaine didn’t have time to respond to his question much less move away from the touch—one, that now he had heard Harry’s words he knew should not be happening…if anything Sebastian should be asking Harry this question, not him.

“Excuse me, can I get out?” the melodic accented voice of said Brit spoke up. Both Thad (who was already seated) and Ryder (who had been in the process of sitting down) scooted back out of the booth to let Harry out.

Thad shot the boy a concerned look, “you okay?” he asked somewhat warily.

Harry gave him a strained smile that did not reach his eyes, “I’m fine….I just need to get some air”

Thad looked as though he didn’t agree but had decided to let it go, “of course…”

He wasn’t the only one who watched the teen walk away with concern.

\----00----

Sebastian was feeling unsettled….that really was the only way to describe it. Somewhere in-between an admittedly hot and passionate one night stand, finding out he was now more or less married to said one stand for the minimum of a year and finally returning to Dalton and the life he had thought he forsworn….he had started to care about Harry.

It might not sound like a big deal or even that much of an impossibility—even in regards to someone of Sebastian’s temperament—but he still found himself a little knocked off his feet by it. It wasn’t like it had actually happened in one particular second or event….no, it had insidiously snuck up on him, bit by bit until he could no longer deny that he didn’t actually mind spending time with the British wizard. And when had this fact hit him in the face? Why standing over the aggravated teen and trying to explain why the expression he was suppose to use meant that _f_ _(x)_ _can be made to be as close to_ _L_ _as desired by making_ _x_ _sufficiently close to_ _c,**_ of all things. He had found himself thinking just how cute Harry’s scrunched nose was (and yes…his mind had supplied the word cute!), which made him conclude that he just might have started to actually see the wizard as more than his roommate or (in his less kind moments) his burden.

He really shouldn’t-- if he was taking the facts into account; because yes, while Harry was attractive, incredible in bed, wealthy and clever-not to mention his bonded, he was also short tempered, irritating, suffering from possibly more issues then even Sebastian was and had zero tact. All in all Sebastian should be running for the hills—he didn’t like complicated…he didn’t do complicated; or at least he hadn’t until now.

And this was the problem; he found he was fighting a battle—with himself. The safe: stick with what you know part of his brain was screaming at him to continue as was. Continue pursuing the safer option (aka: an ex-warbler with honey colored eyes) and playing the field. It was telling him to completely ignore the other—quickly becoming louder part of him that felt fascinated by the prickly wizard and all of his quirks. And maybe that was the biggest issue he was having, when he was considering Harry the physical aspect was starting to take a back seat to the teen’s personality; a first in the history of Sebastian Symthe. (Even Blaine’s appeal stemmed largely from the boy’s physical attributes).

It was this very inner turmoil that had him both excited and dreading the fact that Hunter had forced Harry to accompany them to the bar tonight. He had done what Harry had asked (for the most part); he had kept his distance since the coffee house meltdown (which they STILL needed to discuss) but in all truthfulness? -he was sick of staying away. And wasn’t that just a shocker?

He missed the verbal sparring and playful (sometimes) barbs he had become used to exchanging with Harry. Maybe he was a masochist? But no…it wasn’t the stung ego or the hurt pride he missed, it was the fact that someone could keep up to him on his level of banter and cruel teasing.

Because that’s what it was….he would never deny that he could be cruel but when he was exchanging insults with his bonded there was almost a teasing quality to it. A challenge to see who could draw the most blood in the most creative way. When he said it like that, it really did not sound like such a healthy dynamic…but it worked for them.

But despite all of his ground breaking revelations he had made in the last few weeks in regards to him and Harry, he had decided to proceed cautiously. He might have a clearer head but he wasn’t itching to be burned either.

He had decided to keep his behavior and actions towards both the wizard and those around him (aka: Blaine) much the same while he took the time to observe Harry and reach a decision on whether or not he wanted to act on his new feelings.

Maybe that had been his first mistake.

He had been grabbing another round of drinks from the bar with Thad and Ryder; him and Thad because they had the best fake ids—and although a place like Scandals wasn’t big on verifying the authenticity of such things it was better safe than sorry, and Ryder because well….he wasn’t entirely sure, but who was he to dispute having an extra set of hands to carry glasses and bottles?-- when he had noticed the somewhat annoyed expression on Harry’s face, along with the highly uncomfortable one on Blaine’s.

And wasn’t it just his luck that those two would end up alone, together? Unfortunately, it was just about that time that the bar tender had decided to grace them with his presence and attention (and it was safe to say that this was the leering type of attention)—making Ryder look like he was about to bolt, and Thad look confused; which of course left him to deal with both the attention and the whole purpose of gaining said attention.

Ten or fifteen minutes later they had finally managed to get their drinks and make their way back towards the table, and Sebastian; who had already made the decision not to change his behavior as of yet did what was expected of him and sat down beside Blaine; while enquiring just what was wrong. Of course while his actions and response were somewhat habitual he instantly regretted them when he heard Harry ask—in an incredibly strained voice to be let out of the booth.

It was in that moment, seeing Harry’s forced smile and sensing Blaine’s body posture stiffen under his hand that he started to wonder if he was possibly approaching this situation entirely wrong. It was forty minutes later when he knew that he had gone about this wrong.

There is nothing as telling as a sudden surge of jealousy and anger to complete one’s enlightenment….and Sebastian experienced both when he saw Harry not only smile at—but accept a dance from one of the many men in the room who had being eying the Brit all night.

And maybe he overreacted to the situation just a tad.

But in his defense, he really did try to ignore the way that said man’s hand was steadily creeping lower and lower down his bonded’s back, or how he doubted that he would be able to fit a tissue in-between the guy’s body and Harry’s.

Of course he had never really been known for his self restraint.

“Sebastian?” a hesitant sounding voice interrupted the poisonous glare he was sending the gyrating couple’s way. Sebastian forcefully tore his eyes away from the sight to see Blaine looking at him cautiously, “are you alright?” the brunette asked.

“Fine” he bit out, his mind and being still being swarmed with that ugly green emotion, and the pull of it causing him to look back out at the floor. When he saw the interloper lean down to whisper something in Harry’s ear he snapped.

Without a so much as you do—he stood up from the edge of the booth and all but stormed over to where Harry was dancing. Had he taken a few moments to analyze the situation with a rational mind he might have noticed the uncomfortable look on the wizards face or the way that Harry was leaning slightly away from his dancing partner. But he didn’t.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, his common sense asking just what he was doing as he grabbed the larger man’s shoulder and forcefully ripped him away from Harry. The same voice was questioning him when he grabbed Harry by the elbow and pulled him away, hissing a “What the hell do you think you are doing?” at the shocked looking wizard.

It was only through the smallest of mercies that Harry’s larger dance partner seemed to decide not to retaliate for the gesture with more than a glare and a ‘fuck you man’ before ambling his way back towards the bar—obviously thinking of getting himself another drink to make up for the missed opportunity.

“What the hell?” the now fairly angry and disbelieving wizard asked him, his own glare saying everything.

“What the hell? In case you have forgotten we are bonded! That’s what the hell!” Sebastian hissed back, not releasing his hold-but rather pulling the green eyed teen closer to him, his own anger and jealousy clouding his mind.

Harry anger was completely replaced by one of shock and disbelief, “You are acting like a complete psycho because I was _dancing_ with someone??! Like you have room to talk! I am not the one who has spent the last few months texting and flirting with the same guy—most of the time in front of said bonded!”

And what could he say to that? Silence fell over them both flushed with anger, ignoring the noisy din around them in favor of each other.

“Why the hell do you even care? You made it more than clear that you never wanted to be part of this _arrangement_ ….” Harry continued confusion mixing with his ire.

This comment of course only served to stoke Sebastian’s anger back up, “You are the one who wanted space! You asked so I gave…don’t you dare make this out as a one sided problem” Sebastian snarled back.

In turn his comment seemed to reawaken the wizard’s own irritation—though who at, Sebastian or himself was unclear. Harry glared at him, trying to pull away from the vice like grip on his forearm with little success, “Fuck you” he said using his free hand to try and push at Sebastian’s chest.

Looking back on things Sebastian wasn’t sure who initiated the next move or how the hell they went from snarling at each other, moments away from tearing out each other’s throats to the violent meeting of mouths. All he knew was that one minute he was about to shove the wizard back and the next he was attempting to taste said wizard’s tonsils.

The kiss was not soft, loving or kind but rather a way to vent hurt, anger and jealousy. He tasted blood as lips were bitten and teeth clashed. Tongues twined and probed each fighting for dominance until the lack of air forced them to separate.

Both panting slightly from lack of air, Sebastian’s eyes were immediately drawn to the way Harry licked the small trickle of blood from his bitten lip. Pale green met emerald neither entirely sure what to say or do, now that their conscious minds were catching up to them.

Sebastian opened his mouth—to say what, he wasn’t sure but whatever his action was going to be was interrupted by an outside voice. It was then that he realized that both he and Harry had completely forgotten that not only were they not alone, but in the company of several of their friends and school mates.

There was an awkward cough, bring his attention to the shocked looks of said company before the owner of the cough cleared his throat, “Weeell…..I would say it’s about time to leave” Hunter stated the look on his face undecipherable, but sending a glance over to were two burly looking bouncers were standing looking their direction.

“Right” was the only answer Sebastian could come up with and silence followed him as he lead the way back into the cool night air.

\--oo--

Harry woke to the sound of his alarm, an alarm that he forgot to turn off the night before—somehow today, quarter to six seemed so much earlier then it normally did. Grumbling irritably to himself, he fumbled to find the snooze button or better yet the turn off completely button. His mood was not helped by the fact that Sebastian appeared to be completely undisturbed by the irritating noise.

He briefly contemplated sending a hex at the horrid clock before he blessedly found the button he was searching for (at the start of his stay at Dalton, he had often sent hexes at the stupid thing…however his aim was never the best first thing on waking up and after a few misplaced jinxes Sebastian had threatened to send a mass notice to wizarding Britain on his whereabouts if he did not start to do it manually).

Laying back he attempted to fall back into the blissful world of the unaware only to find that he was unfortunately now 100% awake. After a few wasted minutes he gave up and moodily decided that he might as well get up and go for his morning run, after which he might be in a better mood—one that he could possibly use to attempt finishing his ever waiting math assignment. For once he was glad that he had not gotten smashed the night before.

And that was another thing weighing on him…the night before.

He honestly had no idea what had been up with him lately, while he had always been a somewhat moody and volatile person—it seemed as though these attributes had only intensified since the end of the war. He would have thought that finally being able to stop looking over his shoulder for the next attempt on his life would have led him to becoming more chill, not less. And as much as he wanted to blame the bond for making him act this way he knew that he couldn’t…well not completely anyway.

He _wa_ s pretty sure that his constantly fluctuating mood towards Sebastian could be at least a little bit blamed on the bond. Or perhaps it was more the bond fighting with his normally self reliant outlook on life that was causing these major mood swings in regards to his bond mate.

While one part of him felt extremely possessive and needed to be with Sebastian 24/7, the other equally as persistent part held a long ingrained notion which centered around going it alone and it had him lashing out at what he saw as a unwanted impediment….constantly trying to convince himself that he really didn’t care if Sebastian didn’t appear to possess the same need.

At least that was the only explanation he could come up with that could explain his hot and cold behavior towards the brunette….last night was an example of this. Before going out he had been largely of the notion that he was glad for the distance that Sebastian had been giving him—that it was a good thing; and yet as soon as he had seen Sebastian greet Blaine his anger and jealously had reared its ugly head.

He hadn’t meant to say what he did to Blaine (even if it was all true), and he had definitely not meant to be hurt over Sebastian once again acting more like Blaine’s bonded then his. When he had accepted the dance with that other guy—Andy or something, he hadn’t been looking for anything, he hadn’t even done it to rub it in Sebastian’s face…he simply hadn’t wanted to return to the booth and watch the Blaine-and-Sebastian show. Of course he had not been overly pleased by the fact that Andy turned out to have wandering hands….not that he could be completely surprised by the fact; they were at a gay bar that was known largely for being a place where one could find an easy hook-up after all.

What he hadn’t been expecting was for Sebastian’s jealous reaction to the same fact. His reaction had not only shocked and angered him, but a very small part of him had been secretly pleased by the display (and wasn’t that horrifying? Harry had never thought he was the type of guy to get off on male testosterone fueled possessiveness….it wasn’t a fact that he was overly happy about discovering).

Of course he had done what he normally did with Sebastian—lashed out, though this time had ended completely different from the various other fights they had. And he couldn’t say he hadn’t enjoyed the end result—even if it had left him feeling even more confused and unsure of where they stood then he had been before.

And this was why he had always thought that he would end up with Ginny; Ginny who was sweet, charming and better yet known. He knew exactly where they stood and how their future would have played out. It was safe….and if he was going to be completely honest a little bit boring.

Urg…dwelling on this was getting him nowhere, so with that thought he turned up the volume on his iPOD (one Sebastian had bought him when he discovered Harry really had zero music knowledge or for that matter music) and increased his pace.

An hour and 7miles later he arrived back at Dalton’s dormitory doors feeling tired, sweaty but much more centered. It was one of the best things he had discovered about running (when it was running for running’s sake and not to get away from potential torturers—both the Death eaters and Dudley fit in this category) the way it allowed for him to get out of his head, if only for a little bit.

In a much better mood then before he had gone on his run Harry had a quick shower and returned to his and Sebastian’s shared room to sit down and try to wrestle his way through the assignment he had been working on before their night out. Entering the room he was a little surprised to find it empty, a quick glance at the clock on reaffirmed his surprise as it was barely seven am—much too early for Sebastian to have gotten up on a weekend; especially after a night at Scandals.

After a few seconds of staring at Sebastian’s neatly made bed he shrugged it off and moved to his desk and pile of papers…it was here that he found his second surprise of the morning.

Beside his messily scribbled attempt at the assignment, was a sheet of loose leaf filled with neatly printed bullet points. Examining it closer Harry discovered that it contained a thorough and easy to understand (well easier then the text book or his professor) explanation of the various equations and concepts behind the assignment. Harry stared at the paper in shock for a moment, not missing the fact that he recognized the writing.

In fact he was pretty sure if he were to go to the desk on the opposite side of the room that the drawer would be filled with notes written in the same handwriting. Shaking his head, Harry slowly lowered himself onto his swivel chair while reaching for his own assignment and an eraser before he began to read and process what the neat handwriting was saying.

As he got lost in the world of numbers and limits he couldn’t help but notice a warm, soothing feeling spreading through him, only to come out as a small smile.

Who said Symthe’s couldn’t apologize?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I know that in canon glee the musical happens later in the year (aka: after the kurt and Blaine breakup) but I have decided that I do not care and that the casting is happening before xmas ;)
> 
> **a definition taken from wiki on limits—because it has been WAY to long since I have had to know this sh*T—er I mean really important information ;)
> 
> Title and lyrics: Jealous by Nick Jonas.


	9. Lego House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry about the long wait inbetween postings...I blame it on christmas and all the stuff that comes with it. To make it up to you this chapter is extra long (although not proofed as dilegently as the earlier ones). Hopefully it's not filled with too many errors! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy (and let me know either way!) Happy Holidays and reading ;)

 

**\-------------------------00------------------------------------**

_And it’s dark and a cold_

_December_

_But I’ve got you to keep_

_Me warm_

\----------------------00------------------------------------------------------

**_December_ **

“What are those?”

Harry glanced up in startlement at Sebastian’s question, not having heard him enter the room. Well, might as well get this over with….he had procrastinated dealing with the issue that the tickets he was currently holding might pose for over a week and a half.

“um….tickets?” he hedged trying to convince himself that he should just come out and ask the stupid question that had been knawing at him ever since he had received the official Minstery owl.

“I see….” Sebastian stated making it clear that he really didn’t, “and what, pray tell are the tickets for?”

“Well….you see it’s like this….” Harry started. He had to admit that ever since the bar-kiss-sort-of-apology-thing that he and Sebastian had been getting along surprisingly well. All things considering.

While sure, they were not suddenly swooning and declaring undying love full of roses and pink hearts; Harry liked to think that they had moved well beyond the anger and outright hatred stage of their twisted relationship. He knew for a fact that he wasn’t the only one who had been covertly (or perhaps not so covertly) checking out his bond-mate with less than pure thoughts running through his head. Honestly, sometimes he wondered if there was a gutter deep enough for his line of thinking. Ok….not the time….right, answer the question….

“They’re plane tickets….to England…for the holidays….as in next week” Harry finished, his fingers nervously playing with the edges of said tickets. The returning to England—no matter if it meant facing the press after all this time, or even being obligated to attend one of the nancy Minstery balls was not the reason for his nerves. No, the reason he had waited so long to tell Sebastian about them was because he sort of wanted Sebastian to come with him—and he really wasn’t sure if they had moved far enough past the hostility and miscommunications for Sebastian to _want_ to spend the holidays with Harry, much less in another country and completely different culture.

“Oh”

Harry shifted again staring resolutely at the papers he was in the process of decimating not wanting to see his bond mates expression. Would it be disgust and anger? Or worse yet indifference? It wasn’t like he could expect for one rather violent kiss and a few days of amicability to suddenly change the way Sebastian saw him….or treated him. “yea”

“You’re going back to England for Christmas then?” Sebastian asked a stiffness to his tone that caused Harry to break and glance up at the brunette—whose expression was looking remarkably similar to the pinched one Harry had seen on Kurt Hummel’s when they had met.

“Er…yeah, I sort of have too. There are things that I need to deal with and obligations that I can’t keep putting aside. Kingsley sent them, which is his way of saying that I should use it” Harry explained absently while trying to figure out just what to make of Sebastian’s current reaction to the news.

“I see….so when will you be leaving?” Sebastian asked his tone still rather stilted.

Harry stared at Sebastian eyebrows scrunched feeling as though something vital was escaping him but he just couldn’t put a finger on it….

“Flight leaves the 21st, arrives in London late on the 22nd leave again January 2nd” he answered automatically having memorized the information from the large amount of time he had spent staring at the tickets.

Silence answered his explanation and suddenly a thought came to him….could it be? Was Sebastian….upset about him leaving for the holidays? Was that even a remote possibility? Harry didn’t think that it could be, yet it would explain the constipated expression and frosty attitude Sebastian was giving him now after having been quite pleasant (pleasant does not equate to less snark or sarcasm) as of late. Well, the therapist he had found (a lovely witch who conveniently happened to live only an hour away from where Dalton was located and had cut most ties with the magical world, deciding to delve into the muggle type therapy instead) after the coffee house explosion had told him that he needed to be more open and clear about his own wants and needs…so here went nothing.

“Sebastian?” Harry asked hating how tentative he sounded.

“Yes?”

“Well….Kinglsey sent me two tickets and I was wondering…I mean if you wanted…er well if you don’t have plans already, you are invited to come with me for the break?” Harry fumbled his request enough to make himself grimace at how awkward he sounded.

Sebastian stared at him for a long moment as though he was looking for something, just as Harry was going to hastily retract the poorly offered invitation Sebastian answered, “Ok”

Harry blinked for a moment, not quite sure he had heard him right, “Ok?” he asked.

Sebastian nodded before taking a decisive step towards him and pulling him forward in a quick, forceful kiss. Harry blinked, trying to get his brain to start working again as Sebastian let go of him and backed away.

“Yes” “ok Harry, I would love to go to England with you” the brunette stated before turning and walking away.

Harry stood there gaping at where Sebastian had stood seconds before, he traced his lips bemused.

Well, okay then...     

\--oo---

Sebastian would be lying if he said that he had thought his decision through before saying yes. The decision being, his spontaneous ascension to accompany his bonded back to the great United Kingdom.

It was rather unlike him to agree to something for somebody else’s benefit over his own—and yet he hadn’t even hesitated to say yes to Harry. He was still half convinced it was some witchy-voodoo trick on the wizard’s part—it really was the only sensible explanation he could come up to. Because wanting to make the green eyed teen happy just because he cared about Harry being happy was not a sensible explanation; at least that was what he had been trying to convince himself of since his fateful accordance.

It wasn’t like he was scared or nervous to be going with Harry to meet the people that his bonded considered friends and family or anything…ok, so maybe a wee bit, but in his defense he had never been the type of guy who parents and protective guardian’s swooned over; quite the opposite really. Still, he was doing his best to ignore the squeamish jittery feeling that seemed to have a negative correlation* with the distance between himself and London. Honestly, it was rather ironic considering how only months before he would have given almost anything to be allowed to stay in the bustling capitol.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t the only one who seemed a little unnerved to be returning to England—at the start of their flight Harry had been calm enough to continue drawing in a sketchpad that Sebastian had seen the wizard using more and more over the past few weeks (one he had still not managed to sneak a peek at) but as they drew closer to their destination, Harry had given up his sketching in favor of tearing the napkin that came with the ever so tasty ‘complimentary’ peanuts apart. He was actually wondering if there was a Guinness record in the making with how small the wizard had managed to tear the pieces into. And no, he wasn’t concentrating on nonsensical things to distract himself from his own nerves…not at all.

It wasn’t as though going to England was _all_ bad; it did get him out of the awkward Christmas dinner he would have had to attend with his father—and most likely whatever idiot his father was currently dating. It would have been better if Anthony simply ignored the whole ‘family’ aspect of the holiday, then the uncomfortable fake cheer that he forced on his largely neglected son. It might have been different if Sebastian hadn’t known that the fake cheer-dinner thing was not for his benefit, but for the current girlfriend’s. But whatever….he was past the stage where it made him truly angry; now it simply added to the slow burning resentment, but that was nothing new. Either way even if England turned out to be horrible it had to be better than his other option, plus he was a little curious to learn more about Harry; not that he would ever admit it out loud.

Tired of moping over his thoughts and all they entailed, Sebastian shifted in his seat so that he was angled towards Harry who had moved on from tearing up his napkin to building little pyramids with the pieces. “So…..what’s the plan for when we get there?” Sebastian asked more out of something to talk about then any real curiosity—after all, it wasn’t as though he knew any of the people they were going to be seeing or staying with, so whether they saw person A vs. person B first made little difference to him.

“um….it’s still a bit up in the air with everything….” Harry non-answered before continuing quickly cutting off Sebastian’s question of what ‘everything entailed,’ “Since we will be getting in late afternoon I believe a few of my mates are going to pick us up and take us to Grimmauld place to drop off our things before taking us out for dinner”

Harry muttered something else under his breath but Sebastian missed it although he could have sworn the words ‘bleeding’ and ‘press’ were included, deciding to latch onto something more concrete he found himself asking about their lodging, “ Grimmauld place?” –he had long since decided that British wizard’s had an obsession with odd names; he was pretty sure Harry had mentioned attending a school called Hogwarts after all.

For a seemingly innocent question Sebastian was surprised at the pinched look Harry got. “Er…yeah, it was my godfather’s ancestral home; he left it to me when he died. It’s better now than it used to be considering Ron and Hermione helped me fix it up but it still not one of my favorite places”

“Why aren’t we staying with your relatives then?” Sebastian asked unable to hold back the question that had been nagging him since he decided to go back to England with Harry. He had his suspicions regarding Harry’s childhood but they were just that, suspicions.

Harry actually snorted although it was far too bitter to be classed as a true sign of amusement, “the Dursleys?” he asked incredulously and when Sebastian nodded cautiously Harry shook his head, “Yeah…definitely not. Even if Vernon wouldn’t pull out a shot gun at the sight of me, I would rather camp out on the streets before stepping foot into that house again”

Harry actually looked a little shocked with what he had just let slip but the expression was gone so fast that Sebastian almost thought he’d imagined it. Deciding that he wasn’t going to likely get more out of the wizard on that topic he made the decision to let it go, so instead of digging and asking personally intrusive questions he ended the topic with a sarcastic,

“Don’t you just love Christmas?”

He judiciously ignored the quickening of his pulse when Harry sent him a real—albeit small smile,

“Indeed” was all the wizard said in reply.  

\--00--

Harry felt his face cracking into a smile when he caught sight of the familiar red hair despite his reservations about returning here—reservations present even if it was for only a little over a week.

“Harry!” said red head greeted, waving in an overly dramatic fashion as he too noticed his old friend and benefactor.

“George” Harry said accepting the taller boy’s one armed hug, before backing up to greet his other mate who had joined the welcome bandwagon, “Neville!” “How are you guys?”

“Hey Harry” Neville returned sending him a shy smile. Even though Neville had physically changed a great deal from the shy, chubby school boy and was even a tad more confident, (well when he was drunk that is…they don’t call it liquid courage for nothing) he was still the quietest and most reserved of the bunch. It was okay though, Harry thought it suited the Gryffindor and he really couldn’t picture Neville being anything else.

Harry heard a cough from behind him and couldn’t stop himself from flushing with embarrassment for a moment, “Er…right, guys this is Sebastian, my bond mate….Sebastian meet two of my long time mates; George Weasley and Neville Longbottom”

He almost sighed when he caught the scrutinizing glares that, to his surprise not only George was sending Sebastian, but Neville too. Of course his friends were going to take the opportunity to play big brother and terrify Sebastian, somehow he wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that he had been relegated to the ‘younger sibling in need of protection’ role by his friends. Ah well, there wasn’t much that he could do about it….best to just let it play out and hope that Sebastian didn’t spook too easily.

He was somewhat reassured over the fact that Sebastian hadn’t freaked out and booked a flight back to Ohio after Harry’s abbreviated explanation of just who he was to the wizarding world, right before landing. While the warbler was without a doubt a little shocked to learn just what part Harry played in the wizarding war (again he did keep the explanation as bare bones and as g-rated as possible; no need to let Sebastian know just how traumatizing and macabre his past was) he had been rather accepting over the whole thing. Of course Harry had been forced to answer a few more uncomfortable questions then he would have liked—like if child soldiers were a normal thing in wizarding society, or how a headmaster could allow murders to act as teachers; did wizards not have such things as background checks? But all things considered the conversation went better then Harry had anticipated. Of course there were large chunks of information that Harry did not tell Sebastian; simply because a lot of it was not publically known and therefore would not be thrown in his bonded’s face at some point during their visit. Perhaps he would tell him the full story someday…..but for now he figured Sebastian knew enough to get by.

Harry forced his attention back to the stare down taking place before him “Pleasure” Sebastian stated not letting his own gaze waver under the dual glares he was receiving. After a long (to Harry it seemed forever) minute George’s face broke into a smile, “Same here….was wondering who Harrykins ran off with. Ran off with without leaving so much as a forwarding address” he directed the last bit at the sheepish looking wizard.

“Ops?” Harry asked sending the redhead his most repentant looking grin he could muster up. He felt momentary relief when George seemed to accept it….well up until the troublemaker opened his mouth that is.

“Oh….I’m not the one you should be sending that ‘innocent-forgive me’ smile to Harry, after all you didn’t tell Hermione you were leaving either” George sent him an evil looking smirk when he saw Harry pale slightly.

Harry’s new found dread was not helped when Neville seemed to pale as well and mutter a quiet, “good luck mate, you’re going to need it.”

Somewhat relieved that he would not have to face the bushy haired brunette until at least tomorrow or the next day, Harry pushed his anxiety aside and gestured towards the streaming crowd that was busy trying to trample each other to reach the airport’s exit doors. “So….I’m having the rest of our luggage picked up by Kreacher so why don’t we get out of here?” he suggested.

“Sounds like a plan, we’ll head over to Grimmauld first so you guys can dump off your carry-ons and freshen up a bit, then we can go out for supper, on me” George explained as he started to move his way through the crowd (to Harry’s annoyance…and perhaps making him a little bit impressed, George seemed to have mastered Sebastian’s ability to make the crowd part. He was pretty sure there was some saying about a sea and a guy from the bible—but then again he could be wrong, Aunt Petunia figured he was already going to hell so why waste time on Sunday school education?).

When Harry started to protest, George cut him off “Shut it, business is booming lately—seems like after the war everyone is in need of some laughs, so let me treat you and your new spouse. Without you there would never have been a business to begin with”

Ignoring the curious look he got from Sebastian Harry wisely chose to let it go, knowing that the redhead would win this argument regardless of his protests…plus it was nice to see George with a real smile on his face especially after having been witness to the blank expression he wore following Fred’s death. He wasn’t going to risk that smile over something a silly as pride.

The four boys piled into a cab, ignoring the fact that they were all crammed together inside the small interior (For Harry, he was relieved that George and Neville took Sebastian into consideration and were sticking to muggle forms of transportation—at least to start off with. Harry suspected this was the same reason that Kinglsey had booked them plane tickets rather than sending an international portkey or having Harry just apparate to London. Harry was one of the few wizards powerful enough to actually do the latter…though even he wouldn’t risk trying to side-apparate someone along with him over that distance).

The drive over seemed much longer then Harry remembered it, though that might have been partly due to the squished space or the uncomfortable vibe running throughout the group. It was weird, after having known George and Neville for a large chunk of his school years he hadn’t expected to feel so awkward in their presence again. He wanted to ask them a billion questions but most of those questions related to things he either hadn’t mentioned to Sebastian yet, or things that he wasn’t sure he _should_ ask—especially in regards to the rest of the Weasley’s given Ginny’s, and to a less degree Ron’s reaction to his bonding.

He spent most of the drive carefully sticking to questions about Neville’s current studies (to no ones surprise the brunette had decided to stay at Hogwarts and apprenticeship under Prof. Sprout) and George’s latest inventions (one of which was soap that made the user spontaneously grow long purple fur everywhere except their head). He bit back a sigh of relief when he saw the familiar street pull into view.

Due to the fact that during the war he had almost always been apparated or portkeyed to the derelict house, he had actually never really seen the neighborhood until Hermione convinced him and Ron to refurbish the place. Unable to destroy one of the last links he had to his godfather (despite how he felt about the house) he had reluctantly agreed and spent a good chunk of the few weeks after the final battle (when he wasn’t dodging reporters, at the ministry or cleaning up Hogwarts) arm deep in dark artifacts and dust. He had never been more thankful for magic—as what took the three of them two weeks to accomplish would have taken a muggle six or more months; in the end he was satisfied with the house…though, like he told Sebastian it would never be a place he considered home.

Saying a temporary good bye to George and Neville, both of whom were going to head back to their own shared apartment (as they were currently roommates of a small flat in diagonal alley) to occupy themselves for a few hours before meeting up for supper again, Harry and Sebastian stepped out of the cab.

Harry handed Sebastian a piece of paper with the house’s address on it (the house was still under Fidelius, amongst many other protection charms—he had been too lazy to have them removed, not to mention the charms came in handy in keeping the press and his more avid fans—cough, cough stalkers—at bay). Sebastian shot him a funny look but took the scrap of paper from him. Harry had to bite back a laugh when he saw Sebastian’s expression as the brunette witnessed the house materialize in front of him. Grinning, Harry reached out and grabbed the other boy’s arm before dragging him towards the entrance. It wasn’t until they had entered the house did he realize that he latched onto Sebastian without a thought—something he rarely did, he didn’t even initiate physical contact with his closest friends the majority of time.

He quickly let go and took a step away, something that he was sure Sebastian noticed but much to his relief the brunette didn’t mention. Harry turned his attention to the interior they had just entered, trying to see it the way a stranger might. He was relieved to note that time away had not allowed it to fall back into the mess that it once was, while the walls and floors of the place were still rather dark and dreary—they no longer smelt of mold and dust. The banisters and doorframes were clean and varnished and the few artifacts (the ones that weren’t set to kill, maim or insult you) that he had chosen to keep were gleaming. He was glad that his and Kreacher’s new understanding (thank-you Slytherin’s locket!) had transferred into the Elf actually cleaning up every once and again—even if the house elves meals were still rather hit and miss.

Sebastian looked around the place curiosity apparent in his eyes as he moved closer to one of the few magical paintings that Harry had kept (it was one of Sirius and Regulus when they were not yet school aged, he had found it hidden under a floor board in the latter’s room)…Harry would have kept the painting even if he had not been trying to placate Kreacher since it was one of the only ones that had Sirius in it, outside of the photo album of his parents and various marauders (Sirius had been excluded from most of the later black portraits due to his betrayal of the black family ethics).

“I-Is that moving?” Sebastian asked in disbelief.

“Um…yeah, magical paintings and pictures tend to do that” Harry said looking away from the laughing Sirius who was mischievously tugging a strand of his brother’s hair before pretending to sit their innocently. The young Regulus in the picture went from sitting primly to scowling at his brother in annoyance. Harry both loved and hated the picture; loved because it caught so much of Sirius’s character and hated it because it served as a reminder of what he had lost that night at the Ministry.

“huh….who are they?” Sebastian asked turning away from the picture to look at Harry, his curiosity growing as he noted the return of the pinched expression on the wizard’s face.

“My godfather and his younger brother…they are both dead now” Harry answered simply before moving determinedly away from the picture towards the room closest to the entry. As he set his travel bag down on the kitchen table a loud pop was heard followed by a shout of surprise (well that was what Sebastian would call it later, though Harry felt it was much closer to a girly scream).

“Master Harry! So happy that master is home from that wretched place!” Kreacher appeared oscillating between bouncing with glee and wringing his hands in worry.

“Hey Kreacher, were you able to get the bags and my trunk okay?” Harry asked ignoring the stunned expression on Sebastian’s face at the sight of the wrinkly little elf. Harry briefly wondered how long it would take Sebastian to either snap or pass out from the various surprises the magical world held….knowing Sebastian as he did, he was betting on the first.

“Of course Kreacher did, Kreacher is not a useless, lazy no good elf…Kreacher can follow his Master’s orders” the little elf muttered, obviously insulted by Harry questioning his abilities.

“Of course….I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t or didn’t” Harry hastily cut off the still half-mad elf (even though his sanity was miles ahead of where it had been when Harry first met the elf—apparently elves got their own magical and mental stability from their owners, and while Harry loved Sirius the man was never what one might call sane after his stint with Azkaban—decades serving under mentally insane masters had left its toll on the elf), “Kreacher, this is my bond mate Sebastian….he is to be obeyed as I am and treated with the same respect….understood?” he said making sure that his voice was firm in the last bit.

While Kreacher now adored Harry (despite his blood status) he still carried around some of his old prejudices—and knowing that Sebastian was a squib might be an issue with the old elf. “of course….what master Harry wants Kreacher will do…even if his lazy no good bonded is not worthy of kissing master’s boots…” the elf muttered under his breath.

“Kreacher” Harry stated again in warning, after getting a sullen nod of reluctant agreement from the elf Harry dismissed him before turning to Sebastian with an apologetic smile, “sorry about him, he’s always been a tad prejudice, just ignore it—he’ll get better” at least that was what Harry hoped. He knew that Sebastian was in for a fair amount of scrutiny and condescension given his squib status but he hoped that people (including his own elf and friends) would be able to get past it….eventually.

Sebastian was still gaping at the spot that Kreacher had disappeared from, “What the hell was that thing?!” he asked apparently completely disregarding the insults in favor of his shock.

“Wha…oh right sorry, Kreacher’s a house elf, they’re similar to indentured servants and are generally tied to the most well off—usually pureblooded-- wizarding families. The biggest difference between them and what muggles call slaves is that the elves actually enjoy working for their given family…well the majority of them anyway. They’re magic is stabilized by the bond and without it they tend to become a bit loopy before eventually dying off. Kreacher was my godfather’s family’s elf. Remember how I explained about Voldemort, his supporters and dark magic…well the majority of Sirius’s family were what you would call Dark—my godfather excluded of course…so Kreacher tends to parrot some of their views still…though he has gotten better” Harry trailed off realizing he had begun to ramble.

He cleared his throat taking in the overwhelmed expression on his bonded’s face, “er….how about I show you where you’ll be sleeping and let you rest a bit? It was a long flight….I believe that George and Neville are meeting us at the restaurant at seven, so we have a few hours until we have to meet up with them”

Taking Sebastian’s nod as a yes, Harry led him up to the second floor and showed him into the room that he and Ron used to share—it no longer had two beds of course and was much cleaner than it had been during his own stay in it. “So, if this is okay it will be you’re room for the time being…I’m across the hall if you need anything….” Harry trailed off leaving the question hanging.

Sebastian seemed to shake himself from his stupor enough to respond, “no…I’m good…thanks” said weakly. Knowing just how overwhelming the magical world could be to someone who had never really experienced it (outside the brief visit to the Minstery that is) Harry nodded and left to give the brunette some space to process everything.

He really hoped that when Sebastian finished processing he wouldn’t tuck tail and run…. But only time would tell.

\--00--

George allowed Neville to enter the muggle restaurant that they had all agreed to meet at, ahead of him. Muggle, because it would be suicide to have taken Harry—let alone Harry and his squib bonded to a magical one. Despite the fact that it had been nearly seven months since the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry’s popularity and the populations need to talk, thank and touch him was nowhere near to dying down. Personally (though when around his family—especially the youngest two, he kept this opinion to himself) George thought it was a rather good thing for Harry to have gotten out of the country for the past few months. Regardless of whether the famous raven chose to leave Britain permanently, George was aware enough to know that for the time being at least, the teen-savior would have had no respite had he stayed amongst his adoring, and not so adoring public.

George’s opinion on Harry bonding and said bonded where however yet to be made. George better than anyone, understood how important having another person to share your experiences—both big and small—with could be. He had, after all shared a bond with Fred for just over twenty years before that bond and his brother’s life was so cruelly destroyed—even now, seven months later George had days where he could barely force himself to get out of bed.

In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that Neville had stumbled (quite literally stumbled, the clumsy Gryffindor was still that; clumsy) across George drunk off his ass—something he had been quite regularly since Fred’s death—and not only sobered and cleaned him up, but somehow convinced the redhead that he needed a flat mate*, George wasn’t sure if he would still be alive or at the very least functional. A fact that he would never, ever tell Harry—as the wizard would find a way to blame himself for not only George’s poor coping but Fred’s death. And as much as George would have loved to have someone to take the blame for Fred’s death, he knew that it was not Harry’s fault—nor was the fact that Harry hadn’t realized George’s own issues, as the teen savior had more than enough of his own to deal with and George had gotten quite good at hiding his grief behind sober-up potions and fake smiles. Just having another person to share your living space with had made such a huge difference in his own recovery that yes; he out of anyone could understand needing another.

The thing was….he wasn’t sure that this Sebastian could or should be that person to Harry. While he had only just met the man, he didn’t strike George as someone who Harry would fall for. But then again, he also knew that—despite what everyone else said—Ginny wasn’t that person either. So, he would wait to pass his judgment…and who knows? maybe this Sebastian character would be just what Harry needed to start his own healing process.

  

\--oo—

When Harry had explained his surrogate family to Sebastian, the brunette was not sure how to picture the people who had all but taken in his bond mate as one of their own. Nothing however could have prepared him for the reality of the Weasley family….nothing.

Sebastian admittedly had very little experience or expertise when it came to family—because while he did have a family, he was pretty sure the way that the Symthe’s interacted was not proper familial behavior. The loud, boisterous, all together rambunctious group of redheads was not like anything that Sebastian had ever experienced before.

There was just so much... _noise!_ He honestly wasn’t sure how anyone could form a coherent thought in such an atmosphere, and the constantly changing and fluctuating personalities of said family were altogether baffling. One minute the youngest girl—Ginevra he believed, and the youngest boy—Ronald would be close to bashing each others’ brains out and the next moment they were uniting forces against one of their other siblings; it was far too confusing to try and make sense of and Sebastian was a little ashamed to admit that he was all but clinging to Harry’s side in a desire to find an ounce of rationality.

They’re initial reactions to him could only be labeled as anything but warm and welcoming (more along the line of distrustful and resenting—especially from the youngest members of the family) but as the minutes trickled into hours, they (well most of them) had gradually warmed up to him. It helped of course that Harry had stubbornly stuck by his side and refused to acknowledge or give into their initial antagonism. Perhaps seeing their friend(?) Brother(?) so adamant on his decision helped ease their wariness of this stranger in their midst. Whatever the reason, Sebastian was glad for it….while he was used to receiving less than welcoming reactions from people (admittedly he was usually at least partially to blame for said reactions) it still wasn’t easy or comforting to be on the receiving end of so many glares—especially since this time he had done nothing to earn them.

He had known that this Christmas Eve visit (which unfortunately would be spanning the rest of the day, the night and at least part of Christmas morning) was not going to be completely smooth sailing. The way George had blatantly avoided certain areas of conversation, while still awkwardly extending Molly’s invitation for Harry and himself to come over for Christmas Eve and Christmas was all but telling.

Still when Harry had tried to politely decline (most likely knowing beforehand just how tense this visit was going to be and not wanting to commit to such a large amount of time) George had become more resolute and determined with his invite. He stated that Molly (apparently the mother of the fire-headed brood) missed Harry terribly, and had been ever so worried about his health and well being—of course Harry had caved upon hearing this (guilt was a trait that Sebastian was beginning to associate with the wizard more and more); and so here they were, two days later surrounded by chaos.

“So…..what kind of wildlife does Ohio have?” the Weasley with the rather macabre looking burns on his arms asked stiltedly. Though Sebastian had to give him some credit as outside of the rather stunning blond haired woman by the name of Fleur, he was one of the only ones to try and attempt conversation without Harry around….and just where in the hell did Harry disappear to? He could have sworn the slim wizard had been beside him not that long ago…..

Sebastian blinked in confusion for a second, “wildlife?” he asked rather perplexed as to why…Charlie? was asking such a question.

Charlie nodded eagerly, not looking for a second like this was an unusual question to ask a stranger, “yeah….I’ve never been to America, mainly split my time in-between England and Romania but I would imagine that a place with such wild magic would have some fascinating specimens—not dragons mind you, far too little coverage for those beauties but there should be chupacabra—er… maybe those are further south…but I’m pretty sure gowrows and hodags1 are near your area….” he trailed off sounding somewhat uncertain.

“um…” Sebastian replied dumbly—what the hell was a hodag?; it sounded suspiciously like one of the more questionable entrees one could find at any trucker stop in the fine state of Ohio—“we have groundhogs?” he added because the redheaded lug was looking at him with such a pitifully hopeful expression.

“groundhogs?” Charlie asked his expression hard to decipher—though if Sebastian were to take a stab at it, he would say it was a mix of confusion, disappointment and forced politeness—all in all not the most attractive expression he had ever bared witness to.

“yeah….we even have a day based around them; groundhogs day…” he added lamely.

Charlie stared back at him for a long moment before coughing slightly and saying, “I see.” They then proceeded to stand there in awkward silence, each sipping their chosen drink (something called pumpkin juice for Sebastian—for while he had been far more interested in the one called fire whiskey, he figured it was probably wise not to let his inner alcoholic out to play while trying to make a good—or at least passable impression on the family).

Sebastian cast another desperate look around the rather cluttered and crowded sitting room (if there was one word to describe the Weasley’s house—it was not boring) for where Harry had disappeared to. He noted that the bushy haired brunette—one of Harry’s close friends and apparently current love interest of the redhead by the name of Ronald, was hidden in the corner furiously scribbling away notes and leafing through a large tomb…the prissy redhead, Percy was with her and looked as though he was making suggestions every once in a while. Ronald, George, Bill and his wife—the beautiful Fleur, were seated in a loose circle playing what appeared to be an exploding card game, while Molly could be heard bustling around the kitchen tossing out instructions to her poor bedraggled looking husband. The only ones he could not find were Ginevra…..and Harry.

A small tendril of unease uncurled itself in his stomach…while Harry had been a little sketchy on details, he did recall the green eyed male mentioning (or perhaps shouting during one of their many fights about who had screwed whose life up more) that before their bonding he had intended on proposing to the fiery redhead. The fact that those two were the ones currently missing was not a comforting fact.

He was once again surprised by how protective and possessive of Harry he felt….but he found that he absolutely _hated_ the idea of Ginevra being anywhere near Harry.

He excused himself from Charlie’s presence and ventured out of the room under the cover of needing the restroom—it wasn’t his fault that he was headed in the exact opposite direction of said restroom…the house’s layout was after all, very confusing. He found himself coming to a standstill when he found the two wayward wizards.

He paused several feet away, sticking to the shadows as to not alert them of his presence and studied the situation in front of him. While to most people, the conversation and contact between the two would appear to be mutual—Sebastian was not most people. No, having spent numerous hours in the company of the liars and manipulators that his father liked to call associates Sebastian was versed enough in reading body language to note the way Harry was subtly leaning away from Ginevra’s crowding stance. He could tell that his bonded was fighting his fight or flight instinct while the girl was fighting to stay close to the raven haired teen. He couldn’t make out words but he managed to catch the pleading tone of Ginevra’s words and the tense almost harsh response Harry was delivering.

Deciding he had seen enough, Sebastian thought it was a good time to reinstate his place in the wizard’s life…he was not about to let some silly little girl cause Harry to question their already shaky relationship even more then he already was. Making it seem as though he had only just arrived upon the pair and hadn’t been standing their spying for the last several minutes, he walked towards them-- not missing the relieved expression on Harry’s face when he caught sight of him or the put out one on Ginevra’s.

“Oh! Harry there you are…Charlie had some questions on Ohio’s wildlife that I could not answer and I thought that you might be better able to answer them” Sebastian said in faux innocence. He could tell by the suspicious glint in his husband’s eyes that Harry did not buy his excuse for interrupting for one minute, but the wizard seemed more than happy to grasp onto it anyway.

“Right….I should go see him then” Harry said hurriedly, sliding out from where he was previously trapped between the wall and Ginevra, “er….so I think this conversation is finished….that we understand each other?” he directed the last bit at the fuming redhead—the steel not unnoted in his tone.

“But…Harry…” she made to protest, not getting to finish whatever it was she was going to say before Harry cut her off.

“No Ginny! I have said all that I am going to say on the matter….I won’t change my mind” he stated firmly, ignoring the crushed look on the girl’s face. Turning away from her he walked towards Sebastian, pausing just before passing him.

“Shall we?” he asked his tone far warmer than before.

Sebastian did his best to hide his triumphant smile before moving to follow the wizard, “we shall.”

 

\--oo—

Harry caught himself just before he tugged on the too tight and far too itchy collar of his formal wizarding robes. It had been far too long since he had been forced to wear wizarding robes period, much less formal ones and after the last several months of jeans and Henley’s…it somehow just felt wrong. And no this thought had not been invading his head just because Sebastian had nearly pissed himself laughing over the fact that grown wizards wore robes. The brunette hadn’t been laughing quite as hard once he was forced into a dark blue one, his mirthful smile transforming into one of discomfort—apparently he wasn’t exactly prepared for how ‘breezy’ the robes were. It had been Harry’s turn to laugh then—only informing him that wizards generally still wore pants underneath their robes at the last minute (aka: right before they headed out the door to attend the Minstery Boxing Day Ball).

Even now Harry had to shake his head at some of the ideas the Minstery came up with. Well not really the Minstery per say, more like a newly formed branch within the Minstery; aka the ‘Healthy Emotional Adjustment Liaisons’ (better known as H.E.A.L) who had been assigned to trying to help everyone cope with the after affects of the war. While this idea sounded fine and dandy when stated like that, somehow the group had gone from what they were supposed to be doing and instead were concentrating most of their efforts on irritating him—ok, so they weren’t actually trying to irritate him, they simply were trying to raise more awareness (from other countries) and more funds (from their own citizens) to help fund their efforts—hence the Minstery Boxing Day Ball…but it resulted in the same thing.

While he had been able to dodge a majority of their well meaning events-- that had he been a part of, would have thrust him front and center as their poster boy-- by being off in America, there were certain ones that he really did not have the option of avoiding. Kingsley had made it perfectly clear in his letter to Harry that this event was one of them. He truly despised things like this: .ask him to donate a few thousand galleons to the cause—sure no problem, need someone to help rebuild a massive castle—he’s there, but ask him to prance and preen like a frigging performing pony all so that people could ogle and question him about the war….yeah definitely not.

It was one of the reasons that as apprehensive as he was about introducing Sebastian to this crowd and the accompanying scavengers (better known as the press) he was in a way almost relieved for his bonded’s company tonight. At the very least it should help distract at least a little bit from all the uncomfortable questions like; how does it feel to finally kill He-Who-Must-not-Be-named? Do you have any words of wisdom for our torn nations? How do you respond to accusations that you waited too long to engage He-Who-Must-not-Be-named?  And on and on and on….

Ignoring the urge to tuck tail and run when he caught sight of the hungry hoards—their fanaticism not disguised in the least by their expensive evening wear, Harry placed his hand on Sebastian’s lower back; meant to be both guiding and reassuring. He caught the slight upturn of Sebastian’s mouth and knew that the brunette appreciated the gesture. Not that Harry could blame him, hell he was used to this world and its people’s attention and he was still nervous entering the room; he couldn’t imagine how Sebastian must be feeling.

The first hour went by quite smoothly….he and Sebastian skirted along the edges of the crowd, stopping only to talk and mingle with people Harry knew were smart enough not to start something or ask too many prying questions. He was momentarily ~~stunned~~ …no, that’s not the word—surprised perhaps, to see Ginny wrapped around the arm of a guy Harry vaguely recognized—wearing what looked like an engagement ring no less.

While he was a little shocked to find that the sight didn’t really seem to bother him (none of the outrageous jealously he had felt over her and Dean in sixth year, or even the small twinges of regret he felt when she said they needed to take a break; just….relief?) but that wasn’t why he was initially shocked at the sight. No, the reason that it caused him such surprise was due to the fact that she had literally just cornered him a mere two days before to try and convince him to get back together with her.

And she had been rather adamant at the time-- to the point that Harry had been starting to get a little nervous as she was blatantly ignoring all of his denials and forging ahead with her own questionable agenda. At first he wasn’t quite sure what to think when she had come up to him and asked for a private word—he had been both pleased and perhaps a little nervous. Pleased because it seemed that she had gotten over his and Sebastian’s bonding enough to at least start speaking to him again, and nervous because well….how she had reacted to his bonding in the first place (thankfully none of the dinnerware the Weasleys owned was what one would call priceless—so at least Molly hadn’t been carrying a grudge against his skull for breaking it).

He had politely excused himself from where he had been ‘helping’ Hermione and Percy re-write some new bill that was suppose to oversea legalizing certain herbs used in healing potions (and by helping he meant that he was sitting idly beside them while making small talk with Hermione between whatever point Percy was blathering on about) to follow Ginny out of the room. Sparing only a brief glance to make sure that Sebastian was doing okay, and smiling in amusement at the incredulous looks he and Charlie were alternatively exchanging with each other (somewhere along the line of—no he’s crazy I tell you…but no _he’_ s crazy!).

When she had stopped in one of the lesser used hallways in the windy rat maze that was the Burrow, she had come right out and stated that she had reacted as poorly as she had because she had been angry and hurt by his bonding and let her emotions get the better of her. She said that she had thought that it was a permanent bond and that she had discovered only a few weeks ago through the grape-vine (aka: the Kinglsey—Molly—Ginny vine) that it wasn’t. She then proceeded to tell him that she forgave him and that she wanted them to get back together. And t _hen_ she had gone on and tried to kiss him.

When Harry had managed to get over his shock at her words and actions—while dodging said action, he had told her that, no as of right now he was with Sebastian and he would not be the type of person who would cheat on his spouse…no matter how that person came to be his spouse. When she had all but ignored his statement and continued with her own logic that no one needed to know Harry hadn’t been sure how to respond.

Never in a million years would he have thought she would suggest something like that—and he was surprised by just how angry and disgusted he was at the suggestion. Even if he and Sebastian did end up breaking the bond in August…he still would never be the type of person to get involved with her when he was with someone else (somehow the offer came off as so much more crass and all together wrong then it did when spoken from Malfoy’s lips; then again perhaps it was because he had always known Malfoy was a Malfoy…aka: what benefited him was right). The very idea that Ginny would suggest such a thing….it was like she didn’t know him at all! But then perhaps it was a better indication that he had never really known her at all.

It was in that moment that he came to the conclusion that even if he and Sebastian didn’t work out in the long run, that he would never be able to be happy with Ginny….and no, not just because of wanting him to cheat on his spouse, but he was starting to realize that before going to Ohio he had always viewed her with rose colored glasses—as the saying goes.

He had set her up to be his ideal—the perfect person; and it was neither fair to her nor himself to continue with that delusion. The space and time that Ohio had afforded him, allowed him to take a step back and reconsider their relationship and the conclusion he came to was rather disturbing. Analyzing his feelings over her, he realized that he saw her more as a sister then a potential lover….that he had come that close to proposing to her was downright wrong (on so many levels). When he had told her (far more gently then he had told himself) that he thought they made better friends and he didn’t think that they should get back together—ever, she had once again completely ignored his words.

It was at that point he had started to get a little nervous—not because he thought that she could actually do anything to him but because he knew if she did his own reaction might send him over the edge. And as much as she had been currently frustrating him, he didn’t want to actually hurt her. He had been incredibly relieved when Sebastian interrupted them, though he had to wonder about the perfect timing to it—but either way it didn’t really matter, what mattered was the fact that he could put space between him and the increasingly clinging redhead.

So it was just that conversation that caused him such shock at seeing her not only quite clearly with someone else, but apparently engaged. Had she been engaged when she approached him? Or did it happen after? Did she ask simply because she got cold feet with her current relationship, or was she trying to prove a point?—really either could be true. In the end Harry decided that it didn’t matter and really didn’t affect him (at least any longer) so he let it go.

He had enough relationship issues of his own to sort through without getting messed up in other’s convoluted games.

It was in the second hours that things started to go South; the downward spiral naturally was caused by no other but the infamous Rita Skeeter.

Harry and Sebastian had just finished speaking with Xenous Lovegood (not one of Harry’s favorite people—because although he understood the reason the strange man had betrayed him and his friends, he still tried to serve them up to death eaters…a sting that does not go away in a measly few months), when they were cornered by the gaudily taloned gossip queen. Harry had to stop himself from cringing at the sight of her and her infamous crocodile clutch bag (really?…it was a bloody ball. You would think she could ditch the damn thing for once!). It didn’t help matters that the rest of the vultures (and guests) seem to almost converge on them when they noticed just who Rita had cornered. He knew before she even opened her poisonous jaws that this was not going end well.

“Harry darling! It’s been to long….just where on earth did you vanish to?” Rita crooned in a highly over-dramatized tone of concern.

Harry just gave her a blank stare back, “Rita” he greeted curtly completely ignoring her question and starting to try and weave his away from the vindictive harpy—dragging Sebastian along with him. Unfortunately for Harry it seemed as though the crowd was siding with Rita on this as they did little to allow the two teens through. Biting back an irritated sigh and giving it up as fruitless, Harry slowly turned back to face Rita and finish what was no doubt going to be a horrific conversation.

Rita’s smile grew at the sight and became a tad more pointed—in Harry’s opinion not a good thing….at all.

“So Harry, what have you been up to the reconstruction on Hogwarts finished? I know that you haven’t been spotted in Wizagmont or at the Minstery in months….what is so important as to keep you from your duties to our fine nation?” Rita asked again. Harry was not surprised in the least at the barely concealed accusations being thrown at him….of course it was not enough that he had given his life for these people ; people who have turned on him so many times he has given up counting—no, he wasn’t surprised in the least that they still wanted more from him.

To bad for them that he wasn’t willing to give them any more. See if he cares about their ‘upstanding opinions,’ Kinglsey might not be happy but for all Harry cared they could all go shove it.

“Well after being forced into an adult’s role in a war that I never wanted to participate in from the time I entered Hogwarts I figured that I was due a vacation—you know the thing that most of you took when I was busy helping rebuild our destroyed school….how were the Bahamas’? I heard you spent all of last year there Rita?” Harry shot back keeping his tone just as cloyingly sweet as the reporters’. He could tell he hit the mark when she flushed an angry red and those surrounding her looked away refusing to meet his eyes—ah there they were…the cowards that he remembered.

Seeing that this line of questioning was not going quite as she had planned Rita switched tracks—it was one thing about the witch Harry could admire (even if he detested it just the same) her pure determination to find a story paired with almost no sense of personal shame.

She gave a rather strained chuckle, “Of course dear….completely understandable, and just who is this young man?” she asked again, picking a different angle of attack.

Harry debated momentarily, did he want to redirect her question and let her poke around on her own—likely coming up with a far more outlandish and lie filled explanation for who Sebastian was to Harry (he could see the headline now; Golden boy finds gigolo), or should he just come out and say it; get it over with. In the end he went for option two.

“This is Sebastian Symthe my bonded of four- going on-five months” he stated simply ignoring the gaping mouths of everyone around him. Honestly most of these people were or had connection to purebloods, you would have thought that they would have been able to better control their reactions.

“b-bonded?” Rita couldn’t quite hide the stutter given her surprise at his answer (or maybe it was the fact that he had chosen to answer at all?)

“Yes” Sebastian spoke up for the first time making Harry want to bash his head against a wall as he noticed Rita’s attention immediately zoom to the until then silent brunette.

“Congratulations….”Rita purred, her voice anything but sincere, “so tell me dear just who are you? I don’t recognize that last name” she directed the last at Sebastian.

When Sebastian didn’t look like he knew how he should reply Harry took over once more, “He’s American” he answered succinctly starting to look once again for an escape route—he had a feeling they would need it in a few minutes.

Rita’s brows furrowed for a moment before clearing “Tell us Sebastian, how did you catch dear Harry’s eye—merlin knows the witches and many wizards are dying to know, is the wizarding world in the States different then here? Do they know the role Harry played in our war?” the questions came at a rapid fire pace.

Sebastian answered the only way that he could think to, “I’m not a wizard, so I would not know”

If Harry had been aggravated at the gaping looks before it didn’t come close to comparing to the gasps of shock, horror and disbelief now.

“You’re a-a muggle?!” some unidentified male from the back of the crowd cried out.

Sebastian got an annoyed look on his face at how the word was said—like it was a bad thing, “No my grandmother was a squib” he retorted testily.

Rita was looking like it was Christmas, her birthday and perhaps the rebirth of Merlin all in one day.

“Isn’t that a tad irresponsible of you Harry? Bonding with a squib—and a male one at that? What about strengthening our society and contributing to future generations?”

The majority of the crowd—judging from their expressions looked as though they agreed with her; Harry’s for his part, was just disappointed.

Disappointed that people continued to cling to their idiocy and bigotry….the same idiocy and bigotry that had started the whole Voldemort mess. This time he didn’t try to hide his irritated sigh, glancing over to where Sebastian was staring at the crowd with a mix of surprise and indignation.

Well here goes nothing.

\--00—

Surprisingly enough the Minstery ball was one place that Sebastian did not feel completely overwhelmed by. Oh….that’s not to say that he was one hundred percent comfortable surrounded by people decked out in robes and pageantry….but if he could ignore the fact that it made the men look like they had stepped out of a Lord of the Ring’s movie--the pomp was not that far off from many of the functions he had been forced to attend throughout the years.

He did however appreciate the fact that Harry was sticking close by and he wasn’t left to fend the convoluted waters himself (because no matter how slick he could be if he wanted to be, this was still a society he knew barely the basics about; much less the proper manners and social protocol.)

As much as he would normally gripe and whine about feeling out of place, he found that he didn’t really _want_ to. It came as something of a shock to him as well. He had internally sneered and made sarcastic comments in his head throughout his time with the Weasleys….and he had wanted to scoff at the rather homely knit sweater Matron Weasley had given him (complete with a large S on the front in lurid orange lettering) but he found himself horrifyingly touched by the gesture. And what the hell was that? It was like he was turning into a ginormous emotional sap….and he was pretty sure it was Harry’s fault. Unfortunately, it seemed as though he didn’t really want to blame Harry….it was like a horrible, mind twisting circle.

And here it was again. That warm, gooey—aw-shucks feeling that was threatening to shatter his iron clad blank face (blank because even with his iron will he couldn’t quite manage a sneer). And all because Harry was once again defending him….not to his friends or family….but to the press—therefore basically to his entire country; and wasn’t that mind boggling.

“No” Harry stated the tone leaving no wiggle room on either side of it “I see absolutely nothing wrong with witches and wizards being with or bonding to those outside our immediate power sector. As everyone should be aware of, our numbers have been greatly decreased in not only this last war but have been decreasing over the last several decades….it would be physically impossible for every witch or wizard to bond with another witch or wizard. There is zero proof that children from a wizard-squib couple are any less powerful then a child from a wizard-witch couple. As for the male part of it all—we just finished a war, there are hundreds if not thousands of orphaned children looking for a welcome home and with blood adoption there is no different in adopting a child and having one biologically” Harry paused to take a breath before continuing, ignoring how the reporters in the crowd were furiously scribbling down his words, “But even if I did not have those points to back of my decision, it would not matter….it is after all _my_ decision. Not yours, not you’re neighbors, not Britain’s wizarding population’s…mine. And I have chosen to bond with Sebastian Symthe. No one has the right to tell me whether or not I am allowed to do so. I once again reiterate a statement I made several months ago…I am no longer your savior….I am Harry Potter, a person, a wizard, and someone who just wants to get on with his life. So, please allow me the space and privacy to do so.”

Silence answered the end of his speech but they didn’t wait around to discover the fall out of said speech, Harry once again latched onto Sebastian’s arm and this time all but pushed his way through the crowd and towards the exit.

Sebastian for one was relieved—as enlightening as the evening had been, he was more than ready to go home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-----NOTES----
> 
> *A negative correlation is a relationship between two variables such that as the value of one variable increases, the other decreases (definition taken from WhatIS.com).
> 
> 1\. Chupacabra means goat sucker—a monster who was blamed for mysterious deaths of livestock around Mexico, the southern states and Puerto Ricto.
> 
> Gowrow: first spotted in Arkansas, name derived from the horrible sounds the beast was reported to make. Believed to be a 20foot reptile with enormous tusks that survives by eating livestock.
> 
> Hodag: a ferocious animal native to Wisconsin, believed to have two horns and a series of spikes along it’s spine. 
> 
> Song artist and song: Ed Sheeran: Lego house


	10. Everybody Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I have not died (or worse abandonned this). I am finding that my update weekly schedule was a tad optimisitc on my end, both with wanting to write longer chapters in this story then previous ones, and my increasing my shifts for work. So I am renagging. I will likely try to have a chapter up twice a month (more if inspired or get into it). I am also dividing my writing time between this story and one I have not yet posted (will be a merlin-hp crossover). But enough of my yammering. 
> 
> Heres the next chapter let me know what you think (more smut and fluffyness as ordered!)

It started with a whisper  
And that was when I kissed her  
Everybody talks, everybody talks  
Everybody talks too much  
\---00--  
Harry awoke with a start to the sound of a loud crack. Once he had managed to fumble his way up and out of his warm bed—winning a touch a go battle against his tangled sheets, he realized that the crack was actually his house elf; Kreacher. “Yes?” he asked blearily wondering what could possibly cause the damn thing to interrupt his lovely lie in. 

“Master Harry has a lot of post” Kreacher answered nodding emphatically as if to give emphasis to the fact. 

The statement made the desire to return to bed and ignore the world even stronger but the wizard stoically pushed said desire away and stumbled his way to his wardrobe haphazardly grabbing the first things he could find. “Ok….you’ve sorted them and removed any with curses?” Harry asked as he shoved his legs into the jeans he was holding. 

“Yes Master Harry, theys sorted and waiting….I made yous breakfast as well…Master Harry’s menace is up and waiting as well” Kreacher dutifully reported, his little wrinkled face becoming more so as he grimaced at the mention of Sebastian.   
Harry sighed giving up trying to get Kreacher to be nice to Sebastian as a lost cause; the house elf could be more obstinate then Hermione and her homework schedule—when…no, if the house elf ever decided that he liked Sebastian after all, it would have to be on his own terms.

“Ok, Thank you Kreacher” Harry dismissed dragging himself down the stairs and towards the kitchen where he was sure that both the post and Sebastian were waiting for him. Neither was something that he was feeling particularly up to dealing with first thing in the morning….and after the spectacle he and Sebastian had made last night he had a fair feeling on what all the post was about. 

Walking trepidatiously into the kitchen he found a smile trying to come out when Sebastian silently handed him a large mug of steaming tea—he was hoping that it was one that Sebastian had prepared as Kreacher’s culinary skills were still a tad touch and go. Thankfully, whoever had made the tea seemed to have done an adequate job and Harry spent the next few minutes trying to drown himself in the steaming fragrant liquid.   
Deciding that he had postponed enough, Harry set the mug down and took a seat at the end of the table where most of the mail seemed to be situated.

“Morning” he greeted Sebastian while starting to peruse and separate the pile further.

“Good morning” Sebastian replied sounding somewhat unsure and awkward with the pleasantry (back at Dalton most mornings they either completely ignored each other or sent colorful curses back and forth).   
Silence reigned for the next few minutes and Harry had just finished dividing the howlers from the pile (which he had promptly set on fire) when Sebastian finally asked the question he had likely been sitting on since seeing the piles of envelopes, “What is all this?” 

Harry paused a moment to send his a wry smile, “Why it’s the public’s reaction to the paparazzi bomb we dropped last night of course…honestly I was actually expecting a lot more Howlers—though I suppose Kreacher got rid of the real nasty ones…so maybe that’s it…” Harry trailed off. 

“Howlers?” Sebastian asked again glancing surreptitiously at the still smoking ashes on the table. 

“Er…yeah, they’re like complaints but they explode and yell at you if you don’t open them right away—though I prefer just torching the whole bunch of them” Harry answered leafing through the letters at random. In the past he would have just torched the entire pile of mail, but after several lectures from Hermione he now forced himself to read at least a few so that he would have at least an inkling as to where public opinion was at the moment. He suppose it was better than getting ambushed by pitch fork raising citizens…not that he would ever admit that to Hermione. 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow glancing once again at the teetering piles, “does that happen a lot?” he asked warily. 

Harry sighed pausing to gulp another swig of tea before answering, “Yeah….unfortunately. They seem to believe that everything I do or say is for them to admire or criticize….and most prefer to tell me their opinions via post.”  
Sebastian rubbed a hand through his hair demonstrating his mostly hidden agitation at the news as he glanced once again at the former Howler pile and asked quietly, “is it worth it then?”   
Harry looked at him in confusion, “is what worth it?” 

Another agitated swipe and Sebastian pushed his chair back taking to pacing back and forth, “us. Are we worth it? wouldn’t it have been better—easier just to lie about who I was? Sweep it under the rug until you can break the bond…go back to your normal life of brooms and wands and…” 

Harry cut him off as he started to ramble, “did you want me to lie?” he asked feeling confused and a little disappointed. He knew that he had once again jumped so soon, after all they had just started to get along again so of course he shouldn’t have expected anything more than a temporary truce from Sebastian. 

“No!” Sebastian all but yelled before pausing his pacing to collect himself, “I mean…no, I didn’t want you to lie. It’s just…wouldn’t it have been easier for you? Then you wouldn’t be getting hate mail over it….I-I guess I just don’t really understand any of this. Your life, your world….it’s like a giant kaleidoscope….every time I think I get it—something happens and I realize I actually have no clue to what’s happening” the brunette finished in a frustrated tone. 

The first thing Harry felt was relief…relief at the fact that at least Sebastian wasn’t saying he hadn’t wanted Harry to say anything because he was planning on leaving as soon as he could break the bond, the next feeling was guilt. Guilt at forgetting how overwhelming this all had to be to his bond mate. Not that there was a ton that he could do about that; the wizarding world was confusing and beguiling no matter how you approached it…but perhaps he could give Sebastian some reassurance—at least over the current mess. 

“Yes it’s worth it. I have found in the past that the press and public can be horribly fickle, but they also have a short attention span. This will be their cannon fodder for a few days until something better and juicer comes along. Plus it’s not just bad responses that I have received….there is a lot of letters from squibs and others who have felt ostracized by the main community because of their lack of magic or bonding to someone that popular opinion deems is wrong. They are thankful that we aren’t hiding the fact that you are a squib as though it is something to be ashamed of. Which it’s not” Harry said giving emphasis to the last part before continuing, “I would say I have received just as many letters about that or something similar as I did howlers.”

There was a long pause of silence following Harry’s rather impassioned speech (it seemed as though a few months away from England had turned him into a man of words—fancy that. He was sure Dalton put something in the water…) before Sebastian nodded, though it still looked like something was bothering him. A moment later the brunette gave voice to that something. 

“And your friends and family? If they feel the same way as the majority?” he asked. His question caused Harry pause, not because he was feeling any regret for his defense of Sebastian last night or even because his words this morning were in anyway false—but simply because he had actually not given any thought to what those who actually knew him might think of the whole thing. 

And wasn’t that a strange thought?—not that he normally stopped to consider the consequence of his actions before he acted, but normally he would have at least (even if subconsciously) considered how and if they would affect his friends and surrogate family. This time his only thought had been how it was affecting his and Sebastian’s relationship and by extension Sebastian himself. Harry paused at that realization; did that mean that he now considered Sebastian at least a friend, if not family? While deep down he had known that his relationship with the American had and was changing—it still startled him to consciously recognize the fact. 

And if there was one thing that hadn’t changed about Harry despite the war and his actions in it, it was the fierce protectiveness—even possessiveness he felt in regards to those he considered friends and family. If he were to be truthful, he had a feeling that both of the aforementioned emotions would be even stronger where Sebastian was regarded. 

“It makes no difference….my decisions and choices are my own. Besides I would hope that my friends and family would, if not agree with my decisions at least support the fact that it is mine—and yours to make” Harry added the last bit as an afterthought, though he realized he should have said it much early then now.

He did not want to force Sebastian’s own choice; regardless what his bonded decided Harry would not regret his stance...but he would never force Sebastian to stay if after all this, it was too much for him—or as loathe as Harry was to think it, if it still remained only a temporary thing to Sebastian. Harry would support Sebastian’s choice either way. Besides, he had long since tired of the hypocritical and two faced ways of his ‘adoring’ public—time away had only reinforced that fact. Regardless of how this would all play out in the end he couldn’t bring himself to regret shoving their continued bigotry back in their faces. 

Harry was sure he saw something akin to relief flutter across Sebastian’s features but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving only the familiar haughty sneer on the warblers face as Sebastian moved to place his own coffee cup in the sink just behind where Harry was now standing (and where on earth had Kreacher disappeared to? Perhaps the crazy elf was finally learning a sense of decorum and was giving them a bit of privacy for this conversation. Though Harry suspected that the elves absence had little to do with any sense of decency and was much more likely to the senile thing’s obsession of polishing one of Regulus’s old brass buttons they had found when refurbishing the place—apparently the late favorite had a secret hobby of collecting buttons; Harry had always known the Black family was rife with insanity). 

“Still, I am sure that the Weasley’s and the rest would prefer that you end up with someone more appropriate—like say Ginevra. I know the little harpy would love to get her horribly manicured nails into you” Sebastian said in an offhand manner that was belied by the stiffness in his shoulders (and what was it about Harry falling for pretentious asses? First Draco….now Sebastian….) 

Harry sighed both irritated and tired of this circular conversation….it looked as though words were not going to get his point across. Well, if words wouldn’t perhaps something Sebastian had a better understanding of would? With that thought in mind Harry once again acted impulsively. 

Taking a long stride towards where Sebastian was standing his back to Harry, facing the sink, Harry placed a firm hand on the brunettes stiff shoulders and spun Sebastian around, quickly pressing his own much slighter frame up against Sebastian’s lacrosse sculpted one. 

He didn’t pause at Sebastian’s intake of surprise, reaching up his one hand entwining in Sebastian’s sleep ruffled hair, the other at the back of Sebastian’s neck to pull his bonded’s shocked mouth to his own.   
Well, maybe Dalton’s water hadn’t corrupted him entirely yet—he had always thought there were much better ways to use his mouth then to give sound to grandiose and verbose spiels.   
And kissing Sebastian was definitely one of those ways

\---0--- 

As he felt the firm, slightly chapped lips press against his own Sebastian was ashamed to admit that he froze for a moment. Though to be fair he hadn’t exactly been expected Harry kissing him to be the resolution to their conversation….not that he was complaining or anything; it was after all a much better ending to the conversation then the one Sebastian had pictured. 

In truth, Sebastian had been slightly confused after the events of last night. No one…and he literally meant no one, had ever defended him so openly and passionately as Harry had, especially given it had happened in front of all those people—people who Sebastian was led to believe were rather high up in the wizarding world.

The entire event had left him feeling rather out of sorts and befuddled by his bonded. Because while the words he had spoken to Harry were true; he was feeling rather confused and out of place in this place Harry had grown to call home—that was not really what was leaving Sebastian so confounded. No…the honor of that largely fell to Harry, his ridiculous, confusing, hot headed—nonsensical husband. 

He could not quite wrap his head around the fact that Harry was defending their bond and Sebastian’s place by his side when until rather recently their bond had basically been something that was chaining Harry to Sebastian. Even with their newly amicable ways, Sebastian had been sure that Harry was only putting up with it long enough to escape the damn thing….so really his defense of Sebastian simply confused the brunette. However given time to think the matter over (aka: staying awake most of the night pacing) Sebastian had decided that Harry was most likely trying to make their union come off as un-embarrassingly as possible—that the wizard had decided to make it seem as though it was something that he wanted, at least while he was forced to endure it. Which was what had led to Sebastian’s re-questioning of the matter this morning. 

He could see and even understand Harry lying to the press and his public (as Sebastian got the distinct feeling that Harry really had no love for either) but he had assumed that the wizard would not continue with the charade in front of his family and friends….and that thought had left him feeling oddly hollow and out of sorts: not something that Sebastian had expected or wanted at all. So he had asked—the mail arrival was really just something to blame his insecurities on, as he was a Symthe and a Symthe never allowed himself to expose his weaknesses. 

And secretly hoping—no needing Harry to come prove Sebastian’s conclusions false was certainly a weakness. 

But instead of doing what Sebastian had expected and admitting that it had all been for show, Harry had once again adamantly defended their bond and his commitment to it—and then before Sebastian could come up with a reason as to why Harry would continue to pretend when it was just them (and probably that damn elf who seemed to take particular pleasure in popping out and startling the life out of him—sadistic little sod it was), the wizard had done this….

And oh my; this was a course of action that Sebastian could definitely get behind. So instead of continuing with his protests and doubt laden questions, Sebastian responded in kind. And by in kind he meant he found his own hands gripping the slim wizard’s hips and pulling them to his own, eliciting a guttural moan from both of them. 

He felt a surge of need spike as he pushed his tongue into Harry’s mouth relishing as the wizard relented and allowed him to take control of the kiss, rolling his hips so that the evidence of their corresponding need brushed—causing Harry to tighten his own, almost painful grip of Sebastian’s hair. 

His body singing with desire, Sebastian let out a frustrated growl as he realized that the action was not enough—not nearly enough of Harry to satisfy him. Moving his hands so that he had a firm grip on Harry’s ass he lifted the wizard up forcing Harry to wrap his toned legs around Sebastian’s hips, if the smaller male didn’t want to lose his balance. Not that Harry seemed to mind as he rolled his hips again, more decisively and gave Sebastian a wicked smirk when the brunette almost stumbled at the action. 

“Fuck” Sebastian hissed, diving back into a rather brutal kiss—this one much more reminiscent of the one they exchanged weeks ago; all teeth and tongue. 

“Not here” Harry managed to gasp in reply when they came up for air. It took Sebastian all of three seconds to comprehend what Harry was agreeing to and when he did, he wasted little time in walking them both towards the sitting room and   
couch. 

All but falling onto the old divan (which in the back of his head he had to admit was much more comfortable then it appeared—of course that might have had something to do with the fact that he was laying on top of Harry and not the stiff blood red fabric) their movement’s became almost frantic. Having already pulled off his own shirt (thankfully he had opted for a tee-shirt and not a button up this morning) Sebastian set to work on displacing Harry of his own shirt, wasting no time in kissing, biting and licking the pale skin that was revealed.

Sebastian was once again struck by just how….well, beautiful Harry was. Not that he would ever tell Harry this, as he was pretty sure that his bonded would skin him alive for describing him by such an adjective. But it was true---while not the conventional-ropey muscle and bulky strength kind of handsome that defined many of Sebastian’s conquests, Harry had something almost ethereal about him. Slim, wiry muscles, pale smooth skin, made even more so by his dark wild hair and utterly unique eyes…he seemed almost untouchable. 

Not that, that was going to stop Sebastian; he had every intention of touching and marking Harry as his. The raw possessiveness of his thoughts as he looked down had the half lidded boy in front of him shocked him, but in that moment he couldn’t help it—this boy, no man was his. And he would be damned if he let him go—no matter the cost. 

“Sebastian” the pleading, needy groan from Harry jolted Sebastian back to the present and what he was doing, causing him to fumble slightly with the button on Harry’s jeans. Getting the infuriating button open Sebastian slipped his hand inside and underneath Harry’s dark blue boxers, taking him firmly in hand. He watched satisfied as Harry’s breathing grew harsher and his eye lashed fluttered. 

After a few seconds Harry seemed to almost force his green eyes open and reach haphazardly for Sebastian, intending to mirror his actions. Sebastian felt like there was small sparks of electricity coming off their skin, electrifying and magnifying every action and reaction between them. Never before—not even his most wild and satisfying nights, had Sebastian felt like this…and over something as simple and juvenile as a hand job. 

It didn’t take long before he felt the tell-tale tightening in his lower abdomen and he couldn’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed over how quickly he had come—of course it helped that Harry came seconds after he did. Before they lay there exhausted, their limbs slightly entwined drifting lazily down from their post orgasm highs. 

Sebastian blinked in surprise when he felt a cool tingling and the sudden absence of stickiness but he couldn’t bring himself to comment on it, simply rolling slightly to the side so that he was beside Harry and not crushing him underneath him. Harry gave a contented sleepy sounding hum as Sebastian shifted him so that the wizard had his back to Sebastian’s chest. 

Just before drifting off, Sebastian decided that maybe, just maybe insecurities were not such horrible things after all. 

\-----00---  
Harry didn’t even try to hide the embarrassed flush to his face. Because really, what was the point? 

He was pretty sure given the circumstances no one could blame him for feeling a tad mortified; .why, oh why had he and Sebastian decided to molest each other and then fall asleep in the sitting room again? As in the same sitting room that had the only flo connection to Grimmauld place? Yeah, probably not one of the best plans he’d ever had—then again it seemed like most of his plans were a tad idiotic…hmm that should be telling….. 

He shook his head to get rid of his current line of thinking…it wasn’t the time for it, before turning back towards the merrily dancing green flames that was currently playing host to Malfoy’s blond head. Not even five minutes ago he had been rousted from a most satisfying slumber (one in which he had been partially—okay mostly draped across Sebastian’s naked chest) by the tell tale whoosh of someone flo calling him. 

And wasn’t it typical that today of all days was the one time that Harry had forgotten to block the damn thing?….though if he thought about it, he was pretty sure he had blocked it last night—he wondered briefly if this was Kreacher’s way of getting back at him for making the vindictive elf be polite to Sebastian (well, as polite as it was possible for Kreacher…and most likely only in Harry’s direct company, as he was sure Kreacher was ingenious enough to find a way around his direct orders when Harry wasn’t there to stop him). Ah well, not like he could do anything about it now…he might as well face the music…and by music he meant Draco’s smug, smirking, annoying face.   
Sebastian, the traitor had somehow managed not to blush the color of an overripe tomato and had made some vague (Harry was sure: entirely false) excuse about having promised a son of his father’s friend a visit while he was over here and had promptly vanished upstairs. Tossing another vague “be back later” over his shoulder as he scurried away…leaving Harry entirely excuseless and defenseless to Malfoy’s machinations. 

Machinations, which turned out to be a rather insistent invitation to go out for lunch with the blond menace. Merlin, he was never going to get through a lunch with his pride intact. While it was true that he did not love the blond prat, he was at the very least rather fond of him, it did not meant that he was looking forward to what was likely going to be merciless teasing and uncomfortable questions. Especially if Malfoy was feeling spiteful and vindictive—which from the glint in those steel grey eyes Harry knew he was. Damn Lucius and Astoria for putting Draco into one of his (now much more rare, but still happened on occasion) moods. 

And he had no doubt that it was their fault. He had seen Draco briefly the night before and it did not take someone of Heider’s* caliber to see that the blond was miserable with his current marital arrangement. Harry was sure that this impromptu lunch was a desperate need to get away from the glacial atmosphere of Malfoy manor for a vent session. Not that Harry could really blame Draco for this—though it would have been nice not to rub salt in an open wound by having Draco catch him and Sebastian in such an awkward position. No doubt it hadn’t done anything to help with the blond’s mood. 

And because Harry was Harry—and he had been born with an inordinately high guilt complex, he of course felt somewhat liable for causing his friend, and one time lover additional hurt. Yeah, rationally he knew it made no sense but then again that was true for most of Harry’s ‘hero’ based impulses. Safe to say Harry agreed to Draco’s request (however reluctantly said agreement was in his head). 

Forty minutes later he found himself dressed in a pair of clean jeans and a bunny-hug (he may have agreed to go out for lunch, but he would be damned if he wore some uncomfortable suit or worse wizarding robes—he had no doubt that wherever Malfoy chose for lunch that his current wardrobe would stick out like a sore thumb), trailing after Draco as the blond all but bowled his way down the crowded London street. He had to stop himself from gaping when instead of stopping at one of the elite—mile long waiting list places they had passed, they instead stopped at a rather shabby looking ramen noodle shop….this wasn’t good; it appeared things were much worse in the Malfoy manor then he had first anticipated.   
Draco rarely indulged in his rather amusing (but very covert) guilty pleasure of greasy, fried noodles. Yup, not good at all. 

Still Harry held his tongue and obediently followed the blond in, sitting down at one of the rather sticky Formica tables and dutifully scanning the equally sticky plastic menu. He continued to hold his tongue as Draco gave both of their orders (of course not consulting Harry on what he actually wanted to order—but no surprise there) to a portly, unenthused waiter…who appeared to also be serving as the cook.

Finally after a long stubborn stretch of silence from Draco, Harry broke and spoke first (it always seemed to be this way…the only reason that Harry was so adept at dealing with Sebastian’s mood swings and stubbornness was because he had, had to deal with Draco’s. And Malfoy’s never did anything by halves, that was for sure). “Are you okay?” He figured he might as well cut through the bull-crap and come right out and ask it. No point on wasting hours flitting around the reason for this meeting (and with Draco it would be hours…the blond could talk about nothing for-literally-ever). 

For a moment it looked as though Draco was going to dismiss Harry’s question (even though Harry knew that the whole reason for Draco requesting this lunch was because he had wanted Harry to ask it—don’t ask him to explain Draco’s logic)before his stubborn expression all but crumbled. “no….I-I don’t think I can do this Harry!....I thought I could, really, I knew I would have to eventually—I thought I was prepared to deal with this kind of arrangement, but I honestly don’t think I can” Draco sounded so desolate and broken that Harry had to fight his impulse to reach out for his friend. Not that he would have denied Draco a comforting touch but he didn’t think that either Draco or Sebastian would appreciate it at the moment. 

Harry was at a loss as to what he could say or do to help Draco….he couldn’t imagine what the blond was going through, hell….he knew that Draco’s home life, while completely different from what Harry had experienced with the Dursley’s, had been as equally devoid of warmth and affection. Even Narcissa, who Harry had no doubt loved her son dearly, had never been overly affectionate or motherly to Draco. So, to be caught in an equally cold and loveless marriage---well, maybe Harry could understand the last part…or at least he could have a month ago. 

“I really thought I knew what to expect, after all I’ve had front seat show to my parent’s marriage for years but it is so different when you are actually one half of the union….honestly Harry, I don’t know if Astoria or I have spoken more than two words to each other since the agreement was signed. And we are supposed to get bonded—not a temporary bond, but a permanent one in less than a week? I-I….I just don’t know…” Draco trailed off helplessly sighing in a very un-Malfoyish manner. This time Harry couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grasping Draco’s pale hand in his own, Draco sent him a strained but grateful smile in return. 

Harry did his best to return it before letting go and sighing himself, equal parts frustration and helplessness. “I don’t know what to tell you Draco….well, I do but I don’t think it’s what you want to hear” Harry broke off as the waiter from before approached carrying two massive bowls of what appeared to be noodles (along with some kind of unidentifiable meat mixed in—Harry felt his stomach roll slightly at the sight but pushed the feeling down).

After the bowls were set in front of them and they had each picked at the dishes for a few moments Draco set his chop sticks down, squaring his jaw in a move that Harry recognized as the blond steeling himself. “Well, you might as well just come out and say it….you know you are eventually going to anyway. I’d much rather hear it face to face then a week from now via bloody owl---or worse that poste the muggles use”

Harry forced himself not to smile at Draco’s mispronunciation of post—he swore there was something actually wrong with the purebred’s brain wiring that made it impossible for them to learn and say muggle words—before deciding to give his advice and let the chips fall where they may. It wasn’t as though his advise was earth shattering or incredibly insightful; it was actually rather obvious but Harry knew Draco needed to hear it from another source outside his own instincts, so that was what Harry would do. 

“Well….” Harry began cautiously, setting his own eating utensils down (because it wasn’t as though he was going to actually eat the food in front of him—he may be a self sacrificing idiot at times but he wasn’t suicidal. Although it might be worth it given the irony of the wizarding world losing their vaunted hero to something as muggle and trivial as food poisoning), “You’ve heard me say this before…but I can say it again. Do you really need to go through with this?” Harry asked.

He held up a hand to silence whatever protest Draco was about to make before continuing, “no, I know—your father expects it…Malfoy honor…blah blah blah” Harry pointedly ignored the more and more affronted look on Draco’s face as he continued, “I understand that being a Malfoy is important to you Draco…I do. But at what cost?—is it worth tying yourself to someone who you know will make you miserable for the rest of your life? Is it worth your happiness?...I know that your father still has control of the Malfoy fortune but answer me this truthfully Draco, do you really need it?” Harry paused in his verbal diarrhea, relieved to see that Draco was at least listening to what he was saying-- if not agreeing. 

“You are not useless Draco….you have plenty of marketable skills outside your family name that you could build on. I know I have no right to tell you what you should do, or even pretend I would do the same in your position…but you do have options. Jus-Just think about them….okay?” he added the last bit quietly, praying that Draco wasn’t about to erupt and curse him into a bloody pulp. Really it could go either way, Draco had always had just as hot of a temper as Harry had. 

Harry sent a thanks up to whatever lucky star was shining on him when instead of whipping out his hawthorn wand, Draco sighed wearily and dragged his slim hands through his hair. “I-I…yeah, ok” he stated though he seemed far from convinced. But Harry was satisfied, he had said his piece and at least it appeared like his friend was at least thinking about it instead of simply dismissing it as impossible. That would have to do for now. 

Unfortunately now that they had finished discussing Draco’s woe-begotten circumstances, the pureblood turned his attention to Harry’s own ‘relationship.’ Harry knew he was in trouble the moment he saw the familiar evil little smirk creep onto Malfoy’s face. 

“So….you and your squib looked….comfy” Draco said in an offhand manner, once again picking up his own utensils to re-attack the fried noodles in front of him. 

Harry sent him a half hearted glare (half hearted, because he knew that Draco didn’t actually mean it as an insult but was only saying it to get a reaction out of Harry—which of course he did), “his name is Sebastian….” Harry said pointedly. To which Draco simply shrugged as though he could care less and raised an eyebrow. 

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes knowing there was no point in evading the question as Draco could be rather tenacious when he wanted to be, “not that it’s any of your business but to answer your unasked question, we are good….things have been a little bumpy but I think they are getting better….” 

Draco’s smirk widened, causing Harry to blush (damn his pale complexion anyway), “hmmm…..yes they look like they are getting more than better”

Harry threw his crumpled napkin at Draco’s face, feeling slightly vindicated when it hit him square on the nose and elicited an undignified squawk—stupid prat.   
“I am NOT talking about this with you of all people!” Harry shook his head adamantly, “plus, there really isn’t anything to tell” he added feeling strangely regretful at the truth in his last sentence. Not that he had expected more at this point….but, well this morning at been rather…..er—nice. Yeah. That was it, nice. Harry mentally told his stupid brain to shut up. 

“If not me….who would you talk about this with? Weasley? Or worse Weaslette?” Draco replied not losing his smug knowing look for a moment. Sometimes Harry really questioned his choice of friends. 

“No—I—I, there just isn’t anything to really say….at least not yet. This—whatever it is, is new Draco….I…well, yeah” Harry finished lamely hating the fact that he sounded so uncertain over something that really shouldn’t have been uncertain. But in truth, he really didn’t know where he and Sebastian stood…their relationship was even more volatile and ever-changing then his and Draco’s had been. They had gone from outright enemies, to sort of amicable acquaintances, to well….whatever they were now…so Harry really didn’t know what he could say. 

Whatever snide remark Draco had been about to make died out as he took in Harry’s rather lost expression, his eyes softening minutely before he said, 

“Well, whatever happens Harry, don’t sabotage yourself….let yourself be happy for once. You have earned at least that” 

Harry blinked in surprise at Draco’s oddly sentimental words before giving the blond a small smile, “You to Drake….you to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---NOTES---  
> *Fritz Heider was a psychologist who played a large role in the developing the Attribution theory. The Attribution theory (as one part of the larger and more complex Heiderian account of social perception) describes how people come to explain (make attributions about) the behavior of others and themselves. Behavior is attributed to a disposition (e.g., personality traits, motives, attitudes), or behavior can be attributed to situations—info taken from wikipedia ;)   
> Song and artist: Neon Trees; Everybody Talks.


	11. Young Volcano's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! so just want to thank everyone who is reading this story and reviewing! can't tell you how motivating reviews are ;) This chapter turned out to be a little more serious and slow than I had orgianlly intended but I feel that it was needed as it acknowledges a few things that have been mentioned in passing and expands a bit more on Sebastian's side of things. There is not very much harry/sebastain in this chapter but promise there will be in the next. Anyhow hope you like it, let me know what you think!

 

**\-------------------00----------------------------------**

We will teach you

How to make boys next

Door out of assholes

\-------------------------00-------------------------------------

**_January_ **

Sebastian stared back at the flushed, angry face of Anthony Symthe and knew that the coming conversation was not going to be a pleasant one. Just what had gotten his normally collected father so riled up this time, Sebastian did not know. He did, however know that it involved him and that it was not a good thing.

Sebastian knew that while his home life was not perfect, (definitely a far cry from the Brady bunch) that it could have been far, far worse—he suspected that Harry’s previous home was one of those that fell into the far worse category, not that he had confirmed that fact yet…or was even sure he wanted to confirm it. Sometimes ignorance, or at least feigned ignorance, was easier.

However, even though for the most part Sebastian’s interactions with his parents did not fall into that margin; that’s not to be say that his father, who was normally cold and dismissive couldn’t be all together terrifying if you got him angry enough--like flushed face angry. Which he was….right now.

He honestly couldn’t think of anything that he had done (well at least recently) that had made Anthony summon (and yes he summoned—the whole foreboding voice and steely glare)him into his study (a study that Sebastian had always found dark, depressing…and perhaps a little intimidating). As far as Sebastian knew he had received his father’s blessing to go to England with Harry over the holidays, so he was pretty sure it wasn’t about that. Not to mention he had been better-behaved on their trip than he had since he was twelve…..so England really couldn’t have anything to do with this….

Well, unless Anthony had suddenly decided that he didn’t approve of his son bonding to Harry, but that made zero sense….Harry was rich, famous (in certain circles), and powerful—traits that Anthony Symthe highly appreciated. No, this had to be about something else.

Sebastian forced his face to remain blank, hiding away any nerves that may-or may not be fluttering around his stomach at the thought of the coming confrontation (even if he didn’t know why his father summoned him, he was sure that it would involve a fight). He gave one last wistful and largely regretful thought to the rapidly vanishing happiness he had managed to find and hold onto during his final few days abroad….they were no doubt, about to be a thing of the past.

And surprising as it was (even to himself), Sebastian had actually enjoyed spending time with his husband. Sure, he couldn’t exactly say that he loved wizarding culture…or more specifically English wizarding culture (as he may be an asshole but even he wouldn’t base his opinion of an entire race on one countries’ attitudes and traditions), he still ended up feeling happier and more content there, with Harry, then he had anywhere else.

He was trying not to acknowledge the fact that his contentment was centered much more around a certain black haired, green eyed wizard then the place and culture of their visit. Alas, as they are fond of saying (not that Sebastian knows exactly who _they_ are) good things never last.

Sebastian pulled his head back to the here and now (which in case you have not realized was back in the drafty ‘manor’ in the middle of ~~fucking- nowhere~~ …er Ohio) and sat obediently down in front of his father’s massive-antique desk. A complete waste, if you asked Sebastian, since his father was here so rarely that the massive (and expensive) desk was seldom used as anything more than a dust collector.

His father took his time, walking from the door, across the room to sit behind the monolith desk, his footsteps sounding sharply against the hardwood floor. The heavily ordained walls did little to stifle the sound causing Anthony’s steps to sound like gun shots, which in turn made Sebastian want to twitch with nerves when his father was out of eye sight; but years of denial and reprimands had taught him to stile this urge. Symthe’s did not show weakness after all. Sebastian instead resisted, waiting quietly to find out just what this was about.

When his father had allowed the silence to stretch as far as humanly possible (well in Sebastian’s mind anyway) he finally broke it. “Did you have a good holiday Sebastian?” Anthony asked his tone deceptively mild.

Sebastian swallowed, shifting in his chair to give himself time to analyze his father’s question trying to spot the hidden trap, when he found none he cautiously nodded, only to cough out a quiet, “Yes sir” when he saw his father’s lips twitch downwards. While normally he went out of his way to play the part of the rebellious, rude I-don’t-give-a-fuck-what-you-think son; he knew better then to act in any way other than the obedient (subservient) son when his father’s face was flushed.

Anthony settled back into his chair, the very picture of ease (if you ignored the red to his neck that is), making a show of studying the teen in front of him. “And you are grateful for the fact that not only have I accepted this mockery of a marriage but allowed you to go overseas for Christmas—a holiday meant to be spent with family and fulfilling your obligations?” He asked.

Sebastian couldn’t stop his eyebrows from crinkling at that statement—family time? Since when had his father ever given a crap about family? Certainty not while Sebastian has been alive….and obligations? What the hell was his father trying to say? Sebastian chose to completely ignore the comment about his marriage for the moment—it was easier than trying to analyze it and guess what his father’s angle was.

“…yes?” Sebastian repeated, not really sure what his father expected him to say.

His father’s face pulled back into a tight smile, while he straightened his posture, “then tell me why….after everything I have done for you, after all the failures and disappointment you have given me in return, you have once again decided to make a fool of yourself?” ---ah, and there was the expected anger and disappointment.

Though this time Sebastian was not sure what he had done to deserve it.

“Sir?” he asked trying not to let how confused he was show on his face—uncertainty after all was for the weak willed and equally weak minded.

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say as it caused what little patience his father had been holding onto, to snap. “This! Sebastian! What the hell is this?!” Anthony shouted pushing his chair back with a loud screech and waving a half filled out admission form in front of Sebastian’s face.

Sebastian swallowed again, forcing himself not to look at the paper—the paper that he had kept half hidden in his school pack for the past three months. Three months in which he had been trying to work up his nerve to finish filling out said paper and sending it to MIT admissions.

Send it to a school that was most definitely not Harvard Law; where his father had already sent an application (along with a generous donation) and expected Sebastian to go next year. It was something that his father had told him since he was old enough to read….Sebastian was going to go to Harvard, and he was going to study law…end of question. There had never been another option-- even through-out his acting out stage it had been a silent understanding between them. Anthony would turn his head and let Sebastian do as he pleased now…but Sebastian would pay him back in full after he graduated from Dalton.

The price being his choice in career and future education.

One might think that someone as power hungry and politically involved as Symthe Sr. would appreciate the fact that he had a son who was mathematically inclined and had a strong chance at getting into a notoriously hard school like MIT on his own merits; but they would be wrong. For power meant something very different to Anthony Symthe then it did to Sebastian.

To Sebastian, power was something that allowed you to make your own choices, to subsist on your own merits (not on some cheap paid for imitation of them). In essence, knowledge and one’s abilities were power. It mattered not if that knowledge was on some new mathematical theorem or the senator’s grandson. It mattered little if your ability was something as cerebral as string theory or superficial as being charming….what mattered, was that it was your own and that you had gotten it because of something you did, or worked for. Not something your dismissive father paid for.

To Anthony, power was control. Controlling everything and everyone around him; including his only son. While in the past it could be said that he had little-to-no control over his son, the freedom that he allowed Sebastian was more of an illusion then true freedom. It was he who decided to gift Sebastian with expensive toys, clothes and cars. It was he who chose to ignore his son’s transgressions. Ultimately it was he who ‘allowed’ Sebastian to act out in the manner that he did, and it would be he who would end said illusion.

Anthony had been raised much in the same manner as Sebastian, essentially paid off and ignored by his own father—his career and schooling path chosen by the same father, only achieving true independence when said father passed away.

It would be the same with his own son. Sebastian would follow the same path that he did. His son would attend an Ivy League school (which MIT was not), he would achieve top marks in said school, join a sports team and become captain within a year. He would then be hired by a top tier firm and work eighty hour weeks until he had amassed his own fortune. While the fact that Sebastian had bonded prematurely to a male (and a wizard at that) was a slight hiccup in Anthony’s five year plan for his son….he could deal with it.

Sure it was not ideal, but Harry had power of his own, along with a vast fortune and as a wizard there was surely someway to arrange for him to give Anthony a grandson…so yes, while not what Anthony had originally wanted for his son, it would have to do. But he would be damned if Sebastian did not do and achieve the rest of the list to within a hairs width! He had made one concession, Anthony refused to make anymore.

When Sebastian did not say anything his father asked again, “What is this? Do not even think about lying to me Sebastian, you are a terrible liar—yet another area you are useless in. If it were you in my position, we would have been destitute years ago….so answer the question. What is this?”

Had Sebastian not been on the verge of losing his only chance to do what he truly wanted to do, he would have been amused by the fact that his father thought his inability to lie to him, a disappoint. At this point in time however amusement did not even cross his mind.

“It’s an application….” Sebastian trailed off only to add hurriedly when he saw his father’s flush increase, “…to MIT….to their mathematics program”

“I can see that” Anthony stated his jaw clenching and unclenching as though he was trying to reign back the impulse to leap over the desk and strangle his abnormally quiet son, “I want to know why _you_ have it in your possession?”  

“Well….I-I have always been good at math….I was interested in maybe applying and seeing if I got in….” Sebastian stumbled his way through his answer determined to get through it despite knowing that it was not what his father wanted to hear.

“No. Absolutely not. I will not have my son pursing some Nancy-ass career crunching numbers. What use is a degree in that? None. All you will achieve pursuing this would be working as a grunt for someone else’s big corporation, letting someone else call the shots. You have already got a reserved spot at Harvard; do you know how hard it was to get you that spot? And you’re what, just going to go and throw it away? Absolutely not!”

“But….” Sebastian started, trying to think up something that would convince his father, anything really. Unfortunately, it did not appear that Anthony was in the mood to be convinced.

“My decision is final Sebastian. You have failed me so far as a son, you will not do so now” he stated sitting heavily back down in his chair essentially closing the conversation. “I do not want to hear about this nonsense again. Now get out, I have work to do”

And that was that. Fifteen short minutes and any happiness and hope that Sebastian had managed to find with Harry and harbor for his possible future had been blown to smithereens. He knew his father….and he knew when his father said that they were done discussing this that he meant it. There would be no last minutes changes, no further arguments or bargaining.

Sebastian would go to Harvard as his father wished him to and there was nothing that he could do about it.

Caught up in their own anger and frustration, neither of the Symthe’s noticed that the study door hadn’t quite latched when they entered. Neither of them noticed that there had been a third party listening in on their heated (well one-sided) argument.

While both Symthe’s thought that this conversation was the end of things, and that the result was set in stone, the third person present was not so decided.

\--00—

Harry hoped that he had not just made a ginormous mistake as he watched the envelope disappear down the mailbox slot…and if he had? Well, it was a little late for regrets now.

He wondered if, and when he would ever learn from his past experiences; experiences which should have taught him that meddling with things that were not any of his business usually (always) ended up badly.

Apparently learning this had yet to happen, because Harry had just finished doing something that was most definitely meddling with things that he should have left alone…..but he just couldn’t seem to help himself. The poorly hidden look of disappointment that even he (who had been half hidden behind an half opened door and his invisibility cloak on top of that) could see, had made it so he couldn’t stand to ignore the situation. And he—the ever ‘wanting to help and make things all better’ hero had gone ahead and filled out a certain application form, faking a few signatures here and there and mailed it away before his rational brain could catch up with him. As usual.

It occurred to him after he sent away the MIT application in Sebastian’s name, that perhaps his husband might not have wanted Harry to do so; that just maybe, he had just made the whole horridly unfair affair even more complicated. Well, Harry could only hope that when Sebastian found out that he would be grateful rather than resentful of Harry’s actions. Hey, things turned out okay…well, occasionally.

He had taken a few precautions; like making sure that the response to the application was not sent to the Symthe home but rather to Dalton under Harry’s contact info. That way if Sebastian was not accepted, Harry could simply toss it away without mentioning anything…and if he was, well then he at least had a reason to consider ignoring his father’s rather absolute mandate.

Because that was what Harry thought he should do….really, it was like the Draco thing all over again. He knew how important getting a parent’s approval could be (well, okay he didn’t really because regardless of what he did he would never have received any sort of positive reinforcement from the Dursley’s—but in theory he could understand; sort of), but he hated the idea that both Sebastian and Draco seemed ready to throw their own dreams and hopes away in order to get some cold, distant validation.

He knew he had little business in getting mixed up with this, but he had to at least try. If it all blew up in his face…well, he could deal with it then. Plus, it would be better to try and have it end abysmally then pretend to not have heard and leave things as they were.

And really, it wasn’t _his_ fault he had overheard….he hadn’t meant to spy on his bonded and Mr. Symthe; really he hadn’t.

He had just been trying to get a few minutes of solitude that were assured not to get interrupted by a well meaning maid, or—more importantly—his husband. It wasn’t as though he was avoiding Sebastian per say (except that he was), it was simply that he wanted to make an important decision that would affect their relationship and what direction it would take from here without getting swayed by those rather enticing eyes (among other enticing things).

You see, after a rather (dare he say it) successful Christmas break, where he and Sebastian had managed to coexist (and more) peacefully for the larger portion of three weeks—even growing to the point where Harry would consider them friends—if not more, Harry was trying to decide if he should take the next step. And no, he did not mean _that_ step you perverts—though he wasn’t actually that opposed to taking that step as well. The step he is referring to, was much more to do with the big ‘T’ word; that’s right, trust.

He knew that this would be a turning point in their relationship, and if he truly did mean his words about getting to know Sebastian better and truly striving to make this ‘relationship’ a true partnership, that it was a step that he would need to take. The thing was; he had never truly taken it with anyone.

Oh sure, Ron, Hermione and his various friends knew bits and pieces. Draco perhaps a bit more….but he had never told anyone the whole story, all the nasty little details (that he himself usually preferred to forget). Yes, he was trying to decide whether or not he should open up to Sebastian about his entire life…his upbringing, childhood, school year adventures, place in the war….everything. Everything in actual details—not just skimming across the major highlights and down playing things that he didn’t want to re-live again.

He had been contemplating taking this step for a while now, even before their trip to England really….it was his damn therapist who had initially planted the idea in his head. She said quote, “If you cannot bring yourself to tell me these things….you need to find someone who you can. You can’t keep burying the past hoping that it will just go away Harry—you are eventually going to explode. And when that happens, you just might not be able to put yourself back together again.” She had nudged and hinted a bit more about Sebastian possibly being that person-- not that she had actually come right out and say it, but she made her point and the idea had stuck.

Harry realized that if they ended up staying together past their year sentence (something neither of them had brought up or talked about) that it would happen eventually and he should probably do it sooner rather than later. He had resolved to get it over with before they both headed back to Dalton and their own crazy schedules…these past few weeks it had almost been like they were living in their own little bubble —and Harry wasn’t sure how ‘whatever they had between them’ would be after they got back to Dalton.

So, it had been on his journey back from the side gardens to his own room (which just happened to take him directly past Symthe Sr.’s open door) that he had overheard the tale-end of the son-father conversation. And him being the curious cat that he was, could not force himself to move past without first learning just what had worked Symthe Sr. up into a state of yelling. He had learnt over the few weeks at the end of the summer, in which he had spent in the same vicinity as the elder Symthe that Sebastian’s father was much more the cold, icy anger type then the hot-headed, yell and vent type. So, whatever had angered him to the point of raising his voice had to be big….

It was actually a little surprising that Harry hadn’t found Sebastian’s secret (or not so secret now) desire to go to MIT for math just that; surprising (and there is a tongue twister for you!).

From the few times that Sebastian had lowered himself to help Harry with calculus; Harry had clearly seen the passion his normally collected bonded had for the subject material. As odd as it sounded, Harry knew that Sebastian could not be happy doing anything else—especially following the path his father had set for him.

He only hoped that he could convince Sebastian of this as well.

With that thought in mind Harry set his course to head back towards the manor, (he had gone on a rather lengthy walk to the ‘community mailbox*’ in order to mail the application before he could talk himself out of it), determined to track Sebastian down.

If everything went according to plan, he and Sebastian would have a important and rather heavy conversation over their dinner date tonight (Sebastian had surprisingly asked him to go out on an actual date—as in dinner and a movie; not a night at Scandals).

He only hoped that they would still be ‘dating’ come tomorrow.

\--00—

He honestly needed this.

It had been a long and horribly trying visit home, one that had included all the negatives and none of the positives that he had been expecting. And it wasn’t as though he’d had unreasonable expectations or anything….he had just wanted to be afforded the praise and admiration that were his due. That’s it. Well, and maybe he had hoped that Burt would for once actually read his Christmas list and get him something that he might be caught dead in, rather than trying to be ‘fatherly’ and show his love by getting something unique and ‘thoughtful’.

Burt’s definition of unique and thoughtful, were to Kurt, tacky and cheap….but hey, it was the thought that counted and all that….

And no he wasn’t having a minor (major) sulk because his Christmas visit back to Lima hadn’t lived up to expectations; not at all.

Well, at least Mercedes seemed similarly dissatisfied with her visit home and had given him an excuse to get out of watching some stupid ‘blow them up’ movie with Finn and Burt tonight. Even if it was only breadsticks—anything was better than being trapped in that cursed house wondering why Blaine was taking so long to respond to the few (many) texts Kurt had sent him—and no, spending time with his family was not an excuse, at least in Kurt’s eyes.

In truth, Kurt had been expecting his return to be filled with fanfare and the clamoring for his attention. In reality, he had been met with a happy-to-see-him-but-busy-at-the-garage father, a clumsy and oblivious step brother and a distant and aloof boyfriend. Sure, he and Blaine had spent the requisite few evenings together—watching their (Kurt’s) favorite shows, reviewing their bedtime facial rituals (Kurt was abhorred to find that Blaine had all but neglected his since Kurt’s departure to the big apple!) and catching up on their lives (that had gone as planned—Kurt really did have a lot to fill Blaine in about in regards to his new, big, exciting life in New York…if they ran out of time for Blaine to do the same….well, Blaine understood. After all, New York was New York and Lima was…well, Lima). But Kurt couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that something big had changed and not for the better.

Early on in their relationship Blaine had always been so attentive and doting. He had always acted like seeing Kurt was the best part of his day and as though no one and nobody would ever be able to take Kurt’s place…and to be honest it had thrilled Kurt. Kurt, the kid who had never felt like he belonged anywhere, suddenly had the sole attention of a handsome, popular and well off boy. A boy who had not only been there to support him through his trouble with Karofsky in a way that others could not (Burt and the glee kids tried but without having been subjected to the same abuse they could never really understand what it was like for a out-and-proud teen in a place like McKinley) but who had actually switched schools just so that he could make Kurt’s senior year a bit better.

And yes, perhaps it had gone a little bit to Kurt’s head—but he had come to expect that level of devotion from Blaine, regardless of what might be going on in Blaine’s life….and he was definitely feeling the effects of suddenly being deprived of it.

It would not do. The problem was, Kurt did not know how to fix it….to get back to where they once were, and no, making concessions for his own needs in order to give a little in their relationship was not one the options.

He couldn’t help but feel that there were things being kept from him. And what was worse was the fact that he was pretty sure that it was not just Blaine who was keeping them. Finn, of all people had been unusually edgy and quiet about what he had seen during Blaine’s coffee with the warblers, and no amount of wheedling, threatening (but in a round-about way so that Finn didn’t realize that was what he was doing) or pleading would get his oaf of a step brother to say anything about it other than warning him not to start something with Sebastian or that new kid (Kurt had no idea why Finn’s voice shook slightly when he mentioned the new kid—had Sebastian’s newest floozy done something to him or did he just have a weird fear about English people or something? Knowing Finn the later was not that far of an improbability).

But no, he was not going to focus on his annoyance and frustration tonight….tonight he was going to get unreasonably dolled up (wearing something that was sure to make him stand out given this was Lima and not New York) and go out for a mega plate of pasta (he could start his diet back up when he returned to the city) with his best girlfriend. Mercede’s always knew how to make him feel better; whether it was just egging him on in a bitch session, or regaling him with stories of all the famous people she had met since her move to L.A. (which it turns out consisted of Michael Lowen*).

It was because of how badly he needed this evening that he figures he can be excused for what happened next.

He and Mercede’s had just entered Breadsticks—one thing that it had over the restaurants in NYC was the fact that there was no need to make reservations or wait—when he spotted _them_.

Really, the last people (or more specifically person) that he wanted to see while feeling inadequate and unsure about the state of his current relationship. There sitting at the best seat in the restaurant (and okay, so there wasn’t really any ‘best’ seat considering it was breadsticks and mainly consisted of a bunch of laminated plastic booths and similarly coated tables; but it _was_ by the window) was the meekrat. The fact that said meekrat was here with his snobby, stuck up boyfriend was only added salt to an already open and festering wound (because Kurt was here with Mercedes and not his own boyfriend; and thus could not rub the fact that Blaine had chosen him; Kurt, over Sebastian, in the meekrat’s face).

Kurt could feel his inner bitch slide into place and take over the minute he laid eyes on the (oddly enough) rather happy looking couple. Oh no! He had not come here—his one reprieve from a terribly disappointing holiday—only to see his arch-enemy sitting there looking smug (because really, this was Sebastian he was talking about and the only thing that meekrat could look was smug). He could tell the minute that Mercedes had realized his intentions as he felt her open her mouth to voice what was no doubt a protest or a warning to him to just let things slide.

But no! Kurt was _not i_ n the mood to let things slide….not at all. Hence the reason he found himself marching over to that very coveted (in his mind anyway) window seat, acid words and disdainful glares just waiting to be doled out.

“Kurt….where are you going?” he distantly heard Mercedes hiss at him, but he paid her no heed. She didn’t understand what it was like; what it was like to feel yourself losing the one person who was suppose to be irrevocably yours all because…well, he was sure it was somehow Symthe’s fault that he was losing Blaine. It had to be. Any other explanation involved WAY more self assessment then Kurt wanted to participate in at the moment.

As he drew closer, he was _almost_ surprised enough at seeing the two teens publically holding hands (a gesture that seemed far too affectionate and caring for someone like Sebastian and his whore) that he _almost_ forgot his typically insulting greeting. Almost, being the important word in that statement.

“And what brings the King of sluts here and not to his usual hunting grounds?” Kurt asked, coming to a stop only a few feet away. He took all the petty vindication he could from seeing both boys jump slightly in surprise. It was obvious that they had been having a serious conversation before Kurt’s interruption. He hoped that they were on the verge of breaking –up or something equally as scandalous. Of course if he thought about it, his hopes made little sense because at least when Sebastian was tied to the English ass, he technically couldn’t pursue Blaine (not that it would stop someone with Symthe’s morals)…but then again feelings never did have to make any rational sense. They were just were.

The surprise on both of the teen’s faces was short lived, quick to be replaced by distain--or maybe it was indifference?-- on the Brit’s face, and anger and annoyance on Sebastian.

“Princess” Sebastian nodded his head mockingly, “where’s your prince tonight? Did he finally wise up and dump your sorry ass?” Sebastian asked sweetly.

Kurt had to give him some grudging respect, if there was one thing that Sebastian was genius at, it was picking up on other’s insecurities and exploiting them. Bastard. Kurt grit his teeth together to stop himself from showing just how much that comment had hit home, instead turning his attentions to Sebastian’s companion. If Sebastian was going to go after his and Blaine’s relationship, then Kurt would return the favor.

Plus, this Harry character didn’t sit right with Kurt. His and Sebastian’s relationship didn’t make sense, and neither did Harry. There was something nagging at Kurt, and he knew it was at least partially due to Finn’s reaction to the teen….something had happened. And Kurt hated being left in the dark.

Deciding to take a wild stab at it, Kurt paste his most accusing expression on and glared at Harry, “What did you do to Finn? I know my step-brother and he doesn’t scare easily”—okay, so that was a lie, as Finn was quite the cowardly lion the majority of the time…but Harry didn’t know that—“did you threaten him or something?” Kurt demanded, noting with glee how his words made the green eyed teen pale, leaving his already quite fair complexion almost chalk-like.

Deciding that he was onto something (given the slightly threatening growl that he heard coming from Sebastian—and wasn’t that shocking, Sebastian getting defensive over someone?) Kurt decided to run with it. “What did you do? Don’t tell me your one of those secret psychos or something….of course that would make your and Sebastian’s relationship make much more sense. The only person who could be attracted to someone like Symthe would have to be a little messed up in the head” Kurt said snidely.

It would seem as though Kurt had gone a little too far on the last bit as, as soon as he had said it he saw something snap in the British teen’s green eyes, causing them to change from anxious to a shade of pure poison.

“Would you like me to show you?” Harry asked his smile far too sharp and sinister to be considered genuine. Though, it wasn’t the smile that had Kurt stumbling back several steps….no, that was all in thanks to the rather tight grip the teen had on what appeared to be a steak knife.

Kurt couldn’t explain it….it wasn’t as though Harry was shifted his grip or raised the knife in any way that could be construed as threatening, but somehow Kurt knew that should he say or do the wrong thing in the next few seconds that, that fact would change rather quickly. There was just something in the look of Harry’s face and eyes that made Kurt realize that they were suddenly playing a very different game; a game that he was fast coming to realize, that he wanted no part of.

And then just as quickly as it had started, it was over. Sebastian reached across the table in an almost lightening fast like reflex his long, slim fingers linking around Harry’s pale bony wrists in a both restraining and comforting fashion. “Harry…” Sebastian said quietly and then whispered something else that Kurt couldn’t make out, but it seemed to have the intended effect as the ‘killing intent’ in the green eyes disappeared to be replaced by a look of calm, indifference once again.

It happened so suddenly that Kurt was almost convinced he had imagined the whole thing, and would have likely convinced himself so, had Sebastian not still had his hand around Harry’s wrist.

He stood there awkwardly, not sure what he was suppose to do now…for he wasn’t quite confident enough yet to resume his insults, and yet the whole reason he had come over here was to vent some of his frustrations—now that he couldn’t do that what was he suppose to say?...there was no way, he could say anything civil, this was Sebastian after all. So he was left there standing there like an idiot. Not that either of the teens took any further notice of him.

He saw Sebastian lean forward once again and whisper something else to Harry—and again he couldn’t hear what it was—to which Harry nodded in agreement. A few seconds later both of the Dalton attendees were zipping up jackets and moving to slide out of their seats, Harry making a direct course for the door.

It was only after the British teen had walked out of the exit that Kurt realized that Sebastian had not followed, choosing instead to hang back slightly. He was not left long to wonder why, as Sebastian turned to him, shoulders tense and one of the most frightening expressions on his face that Kurt had ever seen (not that he would ever—and he _means ever_ , tell anyone that he was actually scared of the meekrat).

“Listen here Princess….if you ever think about insulting…or better yet, coming near Harry again. Think again. He has enough to deal with, without your petty, insignificant little grudges…so why don’t you go back to your little—or not so little, friend over there and mind your own damn business. Because if I catch wind of you causing him grief—no matter how small-- again, I won’t have any qualms about making Finn’s fear look like a joke compared to what I’ll leave you with”

He delivered the whole rather unbelievable speech in an even tone, without blinking an eye. Kurt wondered for a second when he had been transported into a cheesy mobster movie, but decided that given how serious Sebastian’s expression was at the moment, that now was not the time for mockery. So instead, he did the first smart thing of the evening, he nodded.

As he shakily made his way back over to where Mercedes was standing with a confused expression on her face, (the whole encounter couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes, though Kurt could have sworn it was much longer) and the small thrill of fear he had felt in the moment faded, he was left feeling perplexed.

He just didn’t get it; he didn’t get what was wrong with that kid,—because there was obviously something very wrong with Harry—he didn’t understand why he cared so much. But most of all he didn’t get what Symthe’s game was. It was almost like….well, like Sebastian actually cared for the little psycho…..

But no that couldn’t be it…could it?

\--00—

Harry couldn’t bring himself to look up after he finished his horrifyingly embarrassing tale (well, it was horrifyingly embarrassing to him; likely to Sebastian, it had just been pathetic and another reason why he was counting down the days until he was free of the freak-show that was Harry). There was a long, drawn out silence that followed his words and when it felt like it had stretched throughout the room and was suffocating everything in an oppressive, cloying blanket; Harry finally broke.

He slowly raised his shame filled verdant eyes to where Ms. Gillygate—or Ysmay as she preferred (not that he could blame her given the last name she had been saddled with) was sitting, watching him patiently. He let out a shaky, relief filled breath when he realized that the light in her eyes was not disgust, or disappointment or even pity, but rather simply understanding. He had been so sure that she was going to throw up her hands in disgust at his lack of self control or at least yell and lecture him about needing to do and be better….and in all honesty had she, he wouldn’t have blamed her.

He could not believe what he had almost—once again—done last night. And this time he didn’t even have a valid excuse…say like, a war time trigger. No this time, he had been a hair-widths away from lunging at that spoiled self absorbed little prick (and no he was not referring to Sebastian) it had been all down to his temper. Well, his temper and his rather unhealthy need to protect and defend those he cared about. He was starting to realize just how far Sebastian had fallen into that category and it frightened him a little. To want to attack someone simply because they were insulting his bonded’s honor and intentions?—when really from everything he had heard about Sebastian, the accusations were not all that far off base? It was insane, that’s what it was.

But no, the little voice in his head told him that he hadn’t been close to snapping on Kurt because he was implying that Sebastian was (once again) using Harry as a night’s cheap entertainment, but rather—and he’s shocked to realize—the fact that he had been implying that Sebastian might be unworthy of another’s attentions; that the only reason that Harry was with Sebastian was because he was mentally unstable…and okay, he sort of thought Kurt might have a valid point, on him being unstable part that is.

Merlin, he was a mess…and the scariest part was he had no idea how to fix it. He had hoped that following Hermione’s suggestions and coming to see Ysmay would help him get past these violent lash-outs but considering the events of last night it didn’t appear to be helping. Although, once again the little voice pointed out that he hadn’t actually done anything—a point that Harry was quick to stamp out considering the only reason he hadn’t done anything was because Sebastian had stopped him. And there was the last part of the problem…Sebastian had stopped him…not Harry himself, but Sebastian. He had always been independent, tackling and conquering problems largely on his own…and it unnerved him to be so dependent on someone.

Sure, Sebastian seemed to be able to talk Harry down when he went over the edge, but what would happen when Sebastian wasn’t there—or better yet, when he got tired of having to be the one to restrain Harry, to keep him anchored; then what?

Because Harry knew it would happen eventually. Eventually Sebastian would get sick and tired of being saddled with a—as Kurt so perfectly worded it—psycho, and move on. After all, everyone did eventually; why would his husband be any different? And how could Harry possibly expect him to be?—after all, it wasn’t as though Sebastian had chosen to be with Harry out of his own free will; Harry had no right to expect him to stay after he didn’t have to.

“Okay” Ysmay said calmly, folding her hands around her now tepid cup of tea. Harry stared back at her in disbelief.

“OK?!?” he asked his voice rising slightly showing his agitation at her non-answer, “how can this possibly be okay? I almost attacked him! I could have easily shoved that bread knife into his gut without even blinking! How can that possibly be alright?”

Ysmay stared back at him unimpressed by his slightly hysterical outburst causing Harry to slump back tiredly into the rather ugly floral patterned chair that he was sitting in across from Ysmay. “Are you quite done?” she asked dryly taking another prim sip at her beverage before placing it delicately onto the table in-between them and straightening up to answer Harry’s question.

“Did you attack him?” she asked, staring at Harry over her horn rimmed glasses.

“No, but…” Harry began but was cut off.

“Was anyone hurt?” She asked once again, talking right over Harry’s attempt to answer her question.

“Well….no but they co..” Harry began again, only to once more be cut off. Which, he was starting to find rather irritating.

“Well then, no harm was done. I do not see what has you so worked up” she said simply, reaching for her cup once again as though everything was done and solved.

Once again Harry found himself gaping at her, “that’s not the point!” he cried out in frustration. How could she not be more worried about this? He could have seriously hurt the other teen….he might have even hurt Sebastian!

“No?” She questioned then held up her hand in a gesture for Harry to be quiet as she continued, “Harry, you have survived more in your life than most people would, should they live centuries. You grew up in an abusive household—no Harry—I don’t want to hear your denials, we both know that is what it was. Then you were forced into a war and a position in that war that would have caused most trained adults to shatter. Finally you are now in a marriage that, while it is improving was not one of your choosing. You cannot expect for one or two therapy sessions and a few weeks of a more amicable relationship between you and Sebastian to miraculously cure a lifetime of hardship.”

Harry stared at her blankly, not really sure what to say to that. It seemed however, that she was not yet done.

“Furthermore, I am guessing that when you were interrupted at this restaurant that you and Sebastian were not just talking about the recent cold weather or the next lacrosse game…am I right?”

Harry shifted in his seat, forcing himself to stop wringing his hands, well…he had told her the worst of his behavior already, he might as well come clean on the bit where he was actually following her directions. “Er…yeah, you are. I-I well, you sort of told me I should open up to him…to, to tell him about everything…the Dursleys and all that….so that’s what I was doing….” Harry trailed off, his mind flashing back briefly to the conversation that he and Sebastian had been having shortly before Kurt had so rudely interrupted. To Harry’s surprise it had actually been going fairly well.

He had been rather shocked at how easy he found it to confide in Sebastian about things that he had always found so hard to admit even in the safety of his own mind, much less out loud. And Sebastian, it turned out was a shockingly good listener….he didn’t try to offer condolences or reassurances—both of which would either have been fake or done little good. He didn’t try to force Harry to take his advice or share his opinion…he had simply listened. Harry hadn’t thought that just having someone sit and listen to his story would have felt so good, so—cliché as it may be—lightening. Harry, in turn had done his best to reciprocate and listen to Sebastian’s own stilted story about his childhood and father.

Even though the conversation had been interrupted, and had never really reached a conclusion of any sorts, Harry still found it more helpful then he could have expected.

“Then I am really not all that surprised by what happened” Ysmay stated.

“What? Why!?” Harry asked truly confused by her answer. He didn’t see how what he and Sebastian had been talking about prior to everything could have any bearing to what happened after.

“Well, as you have just confirmed you were talking about sensitive and emotionally heavy topics. Topics, that are and were surrounding the rather traumatic events in your life. Then to be interrupted and attacked—no, Harry it was an attack, perhaps just a verbal one… but for someone with lingering PTSD***, who has been forced to defend himself against both verbal and physical attacks and abuse all his life—it is easy to see why you might have reacted to this verbal attack against not only you, but someone you care about as though it was a physical threat” Ysmay explained patiently.

Harry paused the automatic denials he wanted to make to think about her words. Yes, he could admit that they had some truth to them but still….he couldn’t walk around knowing that should someone say or do the wrong thing, that it might cause him to snap. He dragged a frustrated hand through his much too long hair (he definitely needed to find a hair salon soon…he hated how his bangs were continuously falling into his eyes now), “So what can I do?” he asked his voice full of resignation, with a small hint of despair.

“I can’t continue to walk around waiting for the next time I lose it….”

Ysmay sighed, folding her hands in her lap, “I’m sorry Harry, but there is no quick fix for something like this. You need to be patient, to continue what you have been doing this last month. I know you hate relying on others and that trust does not come easily to you—rightfully so” she added when she saw him about to protest, “but that is what you need most right now. You need that person you can trust, that can be there for you. You are taking the right steps Harry—while I cannot tell you who this person that you choose to trust should be, I think you already have a good idea yourself” she stated giving him a look, “trust yourself and your instincts Harry….They won’t lead you wrong”

Harry sighed, looking down into his own now cold tea, staring at the settled tea leaves as though they might let him in on what it was he was supposed to know. Because she was right, he did have a good idea who he if not should, at least wanted, to be that person.

He could only hope that she wasn’t wrong about that last part of her statement.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES:
> 
> *I am not sure how the postal system works in the United States, so I am basing it off of the one I have encountered in Canada. When I lived in a more rural, (farm) setting instead of having a post office nearby there was simply a mail box for everyone in said area to send mail through. That is what I am picturing for this. ;)
> 
> ** this is completely fictional and any mention of real people or places are just that FICTIONAL! Not real…so if you are a lawyer set to sue for defamation, be gone… ;)
> 
> ***I just want to say that I know very little about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and so if my assumptions pertaining to Harry and his actions-reactions are completely out to lunch I apologize. It is just how I would imagine someone who has had the life that Harry has had would react. But as I have said, I may be completely full of bullSh*T…so to those more knowledgeable-no offense meant!
> 
> Title and lyrics: Young Volcano’s-fall out boys


	12. Dirty little Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Sorry that it has been awhile, I have no excuse so I will not try to make one. A quick thanks to everyone who is still reading this story and especially to those who take the time and review (You are the best). 
> 
> Here is the next chapter hope you enjoy!

 

**\----------------------oo-------------------------**

_Let me know that I've done wrong_

_When I've known this all along_

_I go around a time or two_

_Just to waste my time with you_

 

_Tell me all that you've thrown away_

_Find out games you don't wanna play_

_You are the only one that needs to know_

_I'll keep you my dirty little secret (Dirty little secret)_

 

_Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret_

_(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)_

_My dirty little secret_

\-----------------------00----------------------------

**_February_ **

Sebastian found himself walking up once again to his dorm-room door, hand posed to reach for the door knob and twist it open before freezing yet again and hastily spinning around to leave. Unlike the other half a dozen times that he had already repeated this process however, this time the door flew open and he was left standing in front of the slightly bemused and questioning face of his husband, nose scrunched (rather adorably) and eye brow quirked.

“Where you planning on ever actually entering our room?” Harry asked with-- to Sebastian’s chagrin--- mirth dancing in his green eyes, mirth that was not all well hidden.

Coughing slightly and trying to ignore the slight heat he felt creeping up his neck, Sebastian straightened his shoulders and brushed past where Harry was standing half in, half out of the now open door. Perhaps if he simply pretended everything was normal and that he had not spent the last half an hour talking himself in and out of having the coming conversation with Harry, the wizard would just let this go.

Yeah….. _like_ that was going to happen.

He could feel the questioning gaze on his back as he swung the leather case holding the days worth of textbooks onto his bed and shrugged off his navy blue blazer, resolute in pretending that he had no idea what Harry was so amused about. To be truthful, he was annoyed….and no, for once he was not annoyed with his irritating (albeit gorgeous) husband, but rather with himself. He was a Symthe dammit! He did not get flustered and nervous over such silly little things like asking Harry a simple, relatively uncomplicated question. He DID not!—so why then did he find himself so worked up over just that? Why were his palms slightly sweaty (which was revolting by the way….to be so plebian and pathetic that he, Sebastian Symthe had sweaty palms! Really….what was the world coming to?) and his heart pittering away at a rate that had nothing to do with the distance he had covered pacing back and forth before entering the room. No, if he was so inclined to speak the truth (which generally he was not) he would admit he was rather nervous. Something that he was finding happened more and more these days in regards to Harry.

He would have liked to say that he was nervous because Harry’s temper and moods could be…well, somewhat unpredictable, as horrible as that made him sound… that answer would have at least made some sense—made him not seem like a bloody preteen discovering her first crush. But no, alas that was not so. In fact while it might make him a tad mental, he could not find it in himself to fear Harry in the least; despite having seen the baggage and the results of such baggage that his bonded carried. No, unfortunately the only explanation for his current nerves was….well, in Sebastian’s mind rather humiliating. Yes, he was nervous because he was afraid that Harry might turn him down. That’s right, rejection was the current reason for his flighty, idiotic feelings and actions. And wasn’t that just the most embarrassing thing he had ever had to admit to?

He was Sebastian Symthe, the stud, the player, the heartbreaker---he should not be the one that was afraid of rejection, who found himself so flustered that he often forgot to breath (and thus ended up light headed and short of breath) whenever Harry decided to shoot him one of his half quirked, cocky-shit eating grins. Hell, last week he had even caught himself trying to think of comparisons for the colour of Harry’s eyes (they were constantly changing….a precious gem in one moment only to shift to the green of a fresh spring’s day….) okay! No, he was not about to start that up again. It was a sickness…of that he was sure. The problem was the more time that went on the less and less he wanted it cured. It was altogether worrying.

But enough of that…Harry’s eyes (no matter how green and beautiful and…arg!) were not the reason for his current bout of nerves. No, this sweaty palm, flipping stomach feeling came down to a certain question that Sebastian wanted to ask Harry. Something, that he had never even thought of asking another before and would (and likely had) mocked his fellow Warblers for in the past. You see, Sebastian had decided that he would like to invite his bonded to come and watch their upcoming Sectional performance. Yes, that’s right he—Sebastian Symthe—was taking a step past their (increasingly frequent) bouts of physical contact (and by that he meant making out and the occasional hand job) to ask Harry to do something that could almost be viewed as….well, coupley.

Oh, he knew that that they had done couplish things before (he had gone back to England for Christmas, Harry and he and gone out to a few dinners here and there) but in his mind those actions could be construed as acts of friendship or obligations given their forced bond. But this— _this_ ….somehow seemed different. And in a way it was. It was something that they did not need to do; there was no real obligation to invite his husband to watch him perform but it was something he wanted. It was a first really….he had never wanted to share this aspect of himself with anyone before, not even Blaine.

It was an altogether new and rather frightening thing….and therefore the nerves. It felt like he was for the first time in a very, very long time opening himself up to the possibility of getting hurt, of purposefully baring his belly in a hope that it wouldn’t get stabbed. And he knew somewhere deep in the back of his mind that there was every possibility that it would. After all, when was the last time that anyone had come to cheer him on in something? His father never had, and well, even the idea that his mother would have been one of those parents that attended things like Christmas concerts or talent shows was laughable….so, in a way he really did have a reason to be nervous.

Sebastian realized he had been standing there silently staring at Harry for far too long; if the odd look Harry was sending is way was telling. He fought down the instinctive blush before squaring his shoulders deciding to just go for it….what was the worst that could happen? –oh, right just complete and utter humiliation, rejection and making a total ass of himself…yeah, just that. No! he was not going to talk himself out of this again, he may be a lot of things but he Sebastian Symthe was no coward.

“Hey, are you okay?” Harry asked actually starting to look a little concerned for the teen in front of him. Sure he was starting to get used to his bonded’s strange moods but from how pale and well…out of sorts Sebastian looked Harry was starting to wonder if there was more to this then Sebastian just going through one of his PMS spells again.

Harry’s comment seemed to snap Sebastian out of whatever strange state he had gotten himself into because he straightened his posture and sent Harry an easy grin—one that the wizard would have believed if he hadn’t noticed the slight tremble to Sebastian’s hands before the brunette folded his arms and effectively hid them from sight.

“Uh….yeah of course, why do you ask?” Sebastian replied throwing forth an air of calm confidence. Harry of course just quirked an eyebrow at him as if to say—really? Sebastian sighed and internally scowled…well, he might as well just say it, not like he could back out of it now without the wizard knowing something was up.

“Ah…well, actually I just finished talking to the rest of the Warblers…” Sebastian began pausing briefly to order his thoughts before forging ahead when he saw Harry’s amused/concerned expression shift into one of confusion, “…and we received the date that sectionals is going to take place on…it’s the twenty-first of February…and I, well we have a certain number of seats reserved for family and such….I just thought, you know since we are technically family, if you wanted to come…” Sebastian trailed off wanting more than anything to take back his embarrassing ramblings and go find something very large and strong to drink…like right now.

His humiliation only grew as he watched a slow, amused grin crawl across Harry’s face and he had the sudden desire to punch the smug git. He was seconds away from saying something that he would no doubt later regret—cruel, cutting and all out mean (it was how he dealt! So, sue him) when thankfully Harry cut him off.

“Of course I’ll come you idiot! Seeing you strut your stuff on stage? Wouldn’t miss it from the world” Harry replied teasingly, though his smile was genuine which soothed Sebastian’s ego.

Still, he wouldn’t be a Symthe if he let his spouse get the last word, now would he? “I’ll show you my strut….” He purred taking a decisive step towards Harry and trapping the green eyed man between his body and their dorm room door.

He smirked as he heard Harry elicit a squeak of surprise, only to have it widen when that squeak turned into a throaty moan.  

\--00—

Hunter had, had enough. His brilliant, fool-proof plan was proving to unfortunately be, not so brilliant or fool-proof. It was altogether rather vexing to say the very least.

If taking Sebastian down had only been about scoring the top Warbler spot and getting one over on his rival then he might have not have been so irritated by the fact that so far neither had happened. He might have…well okay, he probably would never admit defeat and give up entirely, but he might have simply shrugged this failure off and waited it out. Taken his time until another opportunity presented itself, one that was less complicated and made more sense over all….alas, this was not just about advancing within a group of choir singing boys or his pride. No, this had to do with his future….a future that was being put into serious jeopardy at the moment thanks to one Sebastian Symthe and to a lesser but still concernable extent, Harry Symthe.

You see….he may or may not have left CLA do to a minor (major) scandal that was only marginally swept under the rug. While his father was the type of father to be concerned about his son’s future and prospects, his father was also unfortunately, not like the other rich kids fathers (aka: the Anthony Symthe’s of the world). Noooo….his father had to be one with a serious military background—the same kind of background that demanded a code of honor and ethics from its participants. Which, considering just what military personal at his father’s level were required to do and the situations they were often thrown into was a good thing—well, unless it came to paying an exorbitant fee to cover up for certain misdemeanors of one’s son that is. You see, Hunter may or may not have been found suspect in playing a part of a freshman rushing initiation that went just a bit sideways. And by sideways, he means that one of the freshmen involved ended up in the hospital—it was of course purely accidental, a cause of too much booze, open water and extremely bad luck; the law and the CLA board of administrators however did not see it as such. Hunter and five other junior and seniors had taken the fall for said incident and as a result had either been charged or ended up with a mark on their academic records and a termination of their attendance at CLA.

Really, considering that his father had refused to do as many of the other father’s of the involved had done, that is; bribe, Hunter had gotten away with rather few consequences. He being one of the juniors at the time had not been held to the same level of responsibility for the prank gone wrong as the seniors involved and had received only a mark on his school record and a strong suggestion that he transfer to another school. His father, while not willing to make the entire thing disappear had caved and gotten Hunter transferred to Dalton, for reasons ‘of a personal nature.’ Honestly, the whole thing had turned out much better then Hunter could have hoped for minus one small thing….the mark on his academic record.

A mark that would seriously compromise his chances of being accepted into one of the top-end colleges that he would need to attend if he wanted to become a well known and filthy rich criminal defense lawyer. A mark that Harvard would surely not be pleased about….thus his current desperation.

The only way that he could hope to be accepted into Harvard now was if he was the best of the best in everything else. That meant that he was the captain of all the activities that he entered (he had been told by the lacrosse coach that come spring that he was a shoo-in for the lacrosse captainship—given that Harry and Sebastian did not challenge him for it), he needed to be the top of all of his classes, the school valedictorian, the crème of la crème. And right now there were only a few people in his way….that’s right, the biggest obstacle being Symthe. Perhaps he might have been more concerned with Harry had the brit not been a recent transfer who seemed to have little interest in advancing his status in lacrosse, joining up with any other rec teams or even getting the top grades. No, Harry wasn’t the current problem but he just might be the solution to it.

And yes, maybe his plan was a bit of a long shot and perhaps a tad cruel to the parties involved but given how Sebastian and his husband had acted around each other at the start of the year, Hunter had been sure that all he would have to do was stand-by and watch the entire relationship and thus Sebastian’s concentration and ability to focus, implode. He had even seen it working…early on.

The fighting and bickering, the snide comments and angry glares exchanged between the two hot heads had been taking its toll on both boys, but especially Sebastian. The head warbler’s temper had been shorter during rehearsals causing many of the warblers to be wary of him—thus allowing Hunter the perfect opportunity to wiggle his way in and show just why he would make a much better captain then their current one. Really, it was perfect…until it wasn’t.

Something had changed….when it had started, Hunter could not say exactly though the real difference was undeniable following the Christmas holidays. It was like a complete 180…the Sebastian that Hunter had always known seemed like a completely different person. Oh, he was still snarky and bitchy at times but the cutting edge to his comment seemed to be missing, he smiled more, was more relaxed around not just Harry but everyone…allowing for his natural charisma to shine through. Hunter could see it happening before his eyes, all the unease and mistrust that he had been so carefully nurturing in Sebastian’s classmates had all but disappeared, allowing for the irritating warbler to once again take his place as top of the Dalton food chain. It would not do!

Hunter could not allow things to continue as they were….if they did, well he could kiss his acceptance to Harvard good bye now.

There was only one option…it was time to become an active participant in his plan. Harry and Sebastian might have come to terms for now but he had a feeling that said ‘harmony’ would not be so stable when a few doubts and rumors were thrown into the mix.

It was time for Hunter to do what he did best….cause chaos.

\--00—

_(sexual content…if boyxboy offends, you why are you reading this in the first place? But no, common sense aside if you don’t want to read slash content skip ahead)._

Harry let out a throaty groan letting his head fall back against the wall with a loud thud. He couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed by the blatant neediness in his voice or worry about someone catching them red…well it wasn’t handed, _that_ was for sure.

“ _Sebastian_ …..please” Harry groaned again trying to shift closer to the damn teasing mouth but finding himself unable to thanks to the restraining hands on his hips. He let out a growl of frustration, “Merlin! Please already….you got what you wanted…I’m begging here!” Harry managed to get out trying to trust forward again unsuccessfully. He sent a glare down at his smirking husband.

“I know….do you have any idea how hot you are right now? How hearing you beg, become such needy slut for me turns me on Harry?” Sebastian asked his voice low and gravelly. Harry let out another groan of frustration feeling close to sobbing with need.

Just as he was going to give up and allow the insanity that Sebastian had been driving him to for the past ten—twenty—three hundred, hell he had no idea how long, Sebastian ended his torture and Harry felt the slick heat of Sebastian’s mouth engulf his throbbing cock.

“Ahhh…fuck” Harry hissed, not quite able to string together a coherent thought. How flustered he was just seemed to egg Sebastian on as he sped up, twirling his tongue expertly while moving one of his restraining hands from Harry’s now bruised hip to fondle his balls.

“ugggn” Harry gasped his hands desperately looking for something to ground him, finally finding purchase in Sebastian’s disheveled hair.

Harry knew he wasn’t going to last much longer and tried to signal it to Sebastian, but it seemed as though Sebastian didn’t care, allowing his teeth to drag just a little. It was that shot of pained pleasure that sent Harry over the edge and before he knew it he was coming hard.

Sebastian dutifully lapped it up, disengaging with an obscene pop, before carefully tucking a rather dazed Harry away. Harry for his part was slumped slightly against the dressing room wall, his breath still a tad ragged, “Fuck Sebastian” he groaned his body eagerly surging forward to accept the rather filthy kiss Sebastian bestowed him, before the brunette stepped back and started to try to rectify the damage done to his previously stage ready appearance.

_(end of explicit slash)_

Sebastian sent him a smirk looking far too pleased with himself but Harry couldn’t really bring himself to care at the moment, “You know you’ve probably wrecked your voice now….when I came back here to help you with your nerves, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind” Harry said wryly.

Sebastian just smiled straightening his own shirt up from the blowjob that Harry had given him prior to him returning the favor, “hmmm…are you complaining?” Sebastian asked in a tone that said he knew that Harry wasn’t. Harry shook his head ruefully, before hoisting himself off of the wall to start and sort out his own appearance.

Fuck. There was no way no one was going to suspect anything what with how swollen his lips were and sated he looked*…he sighed trying to do what he could. Running a hand through his own messy locks he couldn’t help but cast a side long glance at Sebastian half impressed, half irritated that the prat looked more or less like he always did. He shook his head and pushed his own feelings of unease down….now was not the time to become a clingy, needy insecure git. Sure, lately it felt as though most of their time spent together ended up with them making out or more, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He wasn’t some freaking girl who needed to spend time on emotions and talking and shit…..he was fine with just a more or less physical relationship with Sebastian. He was.

But even as he tried telling himself this, he knew he was lying. In a way he almost wished that things had never changed between them….it wasn’t as though he had necessarily liked when they were constantly fighting and hated each other, but at least then he hadn’t felt so…well, vulnerable. Vulnerable, because he knew that despite how bumpy their first few months had been, that he was starting to like Sebastian, and by like he meant _like_ in more than a ‘oh he’s a fun guy’ or in just a purely physical way. That was not necessarily the problem…it was good to finally feel a connection with someone again, especially considering this was not just someone but his actual bonded; the problem lay in the fact that he wasn’t sure that Sebastian felt the same. Oh, he knew that Sebastian, now that he had moved past resenting and hating Harry right out, found him physically attractive and wanted him _that_ way, he was just not all that sure that his bonded felt anything beyond that. And coward though it might make him, he didn’t want to ask him….far too afraid to hear his answer.

So, for now he would settle for this. After all, it wasn’t as though he wasn’t enjoying being with Sebastian in this way….

“Hey” Sebastian’s voice interrupted him and Harry gave a start to realize that he had just zoned out again, “what’s the matter?”—and was that concern in his voice?

Harry firmly locked his insecurities and worries away and shot Sebastian a bright smile, “nothing, nothing’s the matter….you should probably get going before someone notices you are missing. You guys are up next”

Sebastian shot him a look and seemed like he was about to say something but in the end shrugged and let it go, “Yeah…you should go grab a seat and whatnot…you know amongst my throngs of adoring fans” he gave Harry a cheeky smile that Harry couldn’t help but respond to.

“You’re such an ass” Harry said in fond exasperation.

“You like my ass” Sebastian replied cheesily, and Harry rolled his eyes. “Go…. join the rest of your group. You guys will do great” Harry motioned towards the door and pushed Sebastian slightly.

Sebastian shot him his best puppy eye expression, “don’t I get a kiss for good luck?”

Harry snorted, “you got far more than a kiss already” but moved forward anyway and gave Sebastian a chaste peck on his lips, “there…good luck”

Sebastian smiled and opened the door, “ah I won’t need it” he said confidently before disappearing down the hallway.

Harry sighed and slumped back against the wall he had previously been held up against, “yeah….but I think I will” he said to the empty room. And somehow he knew that for once he was not lying to himself.

\---oo—

Sebastian stormed down the hallway, not pausing to give a warning knock at the dorm room door before slamming it open. Harry who had been sitting on his side of the room- sketching from the looks of things, gave a jump of surprise at the sudden interruption.

The raven haired teen glared at Sebastian, “What the hell?!” he asked his annoyance clear as he glanced down at the sketchpad he was holding.

Sebastian gave no notice that he had heard him, instead continuing to glare murderously at the dorm room floor and pace back and forth. Harry’s annoyed expression faded into one of concern, “hey, whoa…calm down Bas, what the hell happened? What’s wrong?”

It appeared that the fact that he was not actually alone in the room finally registered on Sebastian as he stopped his pacing and spun to face Harry his expression of anger not lessoning in the slightest. “I can’t fucking believe it! the fucking nerve!”

To Harry’s annoyance he found himself falling back on old habits, his body stilling to near motionlessness—something that he had done as a defense mechanism whenever Uncle Vernon was in a rage. Thinking back rationally on the behavior, he could only assume it was his subconscious attempt to make him appear less noticeable. For a brief moment he thought that the acceptance/rejection letter from MIT had come and Sebastian wasn’t taking Harry’s subterfuge as well as he had hoped. Thankfully before he could really start freaking out, he found himself letting out a subtle breath of relief when he heard Sebastian’s next sentence.

“He’s even more moronic then I originally thought! Fucking telling us that we should be taking friggen drugs to win at Regionals! Military school has obviously fucked with his common sense” Sebastian continued his rant completely missing Harry’s changing looks from worry to fear to disbelief and perhaps amusement?

“He?” Harry finally ventured to interrupt when it looked like Sebastian was going to go back to silently storming around the much too small to storm around dorm room.

“Yeah, fucking Clarington….can you believe it? first off, it’s a fucking glee club competition-- not the national soccer league or lacrosse championship or anything, second of all…how can he possibly think that shooting up on steroids will improve our chances to win regionals? And even if it did, what if check or notice something at the national levels?” Sebastian asked, pulling on his hair in frustration.

Harry snorted, but quickly schooled his face into one of seriousness when Sebastian rounded on him, “er…” Harry coughed struggling not to let his question come out as wiseass as it would undoubtly sound, “they…um drug test glee clubs?”

He thought he did a believable job in masking the amusement he was feeling at the very thought of a bunch of pimply, scrawny high-schooler’s having to pee in cups and undergo integration from beefy, coppers--- apparently Sebastian didn’t agree, if the glare he sent in the Brit’s direction was anything to go by.

“I…..I don’t know…maybe? But, that’s not the point! The point is that Hunter’s idea is not only illegal it’s retarded. Even if we did do what he says and not get caught, there’s no way in hell I’m putting anything synthetic into my body” Sebastian gestured wildly as if to make his point.

Harry decided that this would not be the best time to point out how hypocritical the last part of that statement was….um alcohol, smokes, most likely some of the numerous drug concoctions available at most of the gay clubs in London cough cough---not that he actually wanted Sebastian to cave and go along with Hunter’s idiocy, he just found it a little amusing that Sebastian was getting so worked up over the idea.

“Er….right…” as though sensing there was much being left unsaid Sebastian shot him a look causing Harry to continue hastily, “what I mean is that is a good outlook on it. Just say no….”—okay so he wasn’t helping at all, rather the surface was getting further and further away in this hole he was digging.

“Tell him to fuck off?” Harry finally asked smiling innocently. It was the later that seemed to finally pierce Sebastian’s frustrated rage and he reluctantly snorted, the corner of his lips turning up slightly.

“You’re completely useless….you know that right?” he asked grabbing one of the nearest pillows from his bed and throwing it at the now widely grinning Brit.

“Naw….I’m brilliant” Harry replied picking up his sketchpad again now that crisis had been averted.

Sebastian snorted again but chose not to reply to that statement instead moving over to Harry’s side of the room and throwing himself down on the bed beside him, causing the whole bed to shake and Harry’s pencil to once again move. “You asshole”

Sebastian smirked and made to grab at the pad, “let me see….what _are_ you always scribbling away at on that thing?”

“No, fuck off…it’s not done yet. You can’t see it now” Harry denied rolling over and out of his bonded’s grasp.

“Aww…come on….you know how I hate secrets” Sebastian whined.

“No. You can see when I’m done” Harry replied firmly moving so that his knees were facing Sebastian and what he was drawing was not visible.

“Fine” Sebastian muttered moodily, though he smiled internally to himself. If this was what married life was like maybe….just maybe he could get used to it.

It really wasn’t so bad.  

**\--oo—**

_(Flashback)_

_Draco relished in the sounds that he was able to get out of the other boy. Like in everything else Harry did in his life, the wizard was ever so vocal and responsive….so very un-Slytherin like, though maybe that was why he lov—loathed him so much. The polar opposite of everything that Draco was; that he was supposed to want._

_“Shit Draco, did you have to put that much force into it?” Harry snapped out when he managed to un-grit his teeth._

_“Fine, the next time you need someone to fix you up---you can just find someone else to do this then” Draco snapped back at him, infusing as much annoyance into his voice as he could. Their conversation was more based out of habit than anything else-- they both knew that Harry would never find someone else or that Draco would never actually make him._

_“You could just use less malignant spells you know….” Harry replied though it came out more sulky then truly angry._

_“You could just dodge better or learn to actually cast a decent shield” Draco snipped back._

_“I swear sometimes you go out of your way to cause me the most physical damage that you can” Harry muttered, rolling his newly healed shoulder tentatively, as though to check that Draco had actually healed it properly._

_Draco smirked at him, his posture changing from annoyed to predatory, “maybe I like the results” he purred shifting closer on the bed that he was kneeling behind Harry on, so that his front was now pressed up against Harry’s back. He wound his arm around Harry’s slim waist and pulled the wizard even closer to him so that his half-hard cock was pressed against Harry’s ass, while lowering his lips to the juncture between Harry’s neck and previously dislocated shoulder and biting down._

_Harry let a groan slip past his lip- more pleasured than pained, and dropped his head to the side to give Draco better access to where he was now soothing the bite mark with his tongue._

_“W-we shouldn’t keep doing this…” Harry managed to gasp out though he made no move to push Draco away._

_“And why’s that?” Draco asked pushing the panicked feeling that had suddenly erupted in his chest at Harry’s words away. They had been doing ‘this’ for the past two months and somewhere along the line it had become one of the only things keeping Draco together—the time he spent dueling with Harry…an more importantly (to Draco anyway) the time after._

_They hadn’t started out this way---tolerating and er… more. No, when Dumbledore first brought Harry in to his office just shortly after Draco had gone to him for help and admitted the task that ~~Vol~~ -He-who-must-not-be-named had given him, ignoring both of their stunned (angry) expression before telling them that they needed to learn to trust each other, to rely on each other-- Draco had instantly started to rethink his panicked decision, wondering why he had ever thought asking for the old goats help was a good idea. How was learning to work with the only person he hated more than the Dark Lord supposed to help him and his family survive this war? Dumbledore had then suggested (ordered) them to meet every other night to learn new spells or practice dueling against each other._

_The first few meetings went exactly as one would expect—cataclysmically. They had been sent to the hospital wing so many times that eventually Poppy refused to treat them stating that “If you too idiots cannot manage to behave like responsible adults and do as instructed, perhaps it is time you learned how to be an adult. If you want to continue to try and maim and kill each other, then you can and will learn to heal each other.”_

_Oddly enough instead of this winding up with both of them dead after their next session, it seemed to work just as she had planned it…forcing them to interact in a non-violent manner in order to not bleed to death (it also pushed them to actually try and teach each other counter spells and such instead of just trying to grievously injure each other; as both wanted to give themselves less work in the end and the more they injured each other, the more work they had to put into healing each other). Somewhere down the line their outright hatred had turned into tolerating each other, into grudgingly respecting and eventually friendship. Draco still wasn’t sure how that friendship had turned into friendship with extras….or when he had started to want something more than that from the boy hero. Not that he would ever tell Harry the last bit…. he was far to Slytherin for that._

_Oh he had thought about telling Harry, asking the boy to be something more than they were….but every time he worked up the nerve to do so, something changed his mind. Like the jealous look Harry would send Dean when he wasn’t looking, or Harry’s vague references to the future; how more than once he talked in a tense that made Draco think that Harry was pretty sure he wouldn’t have one._

_But, no matter the reason why he backed away from the truth, the result was always the same; his nerves would kick in with the fear of either being rejected outright or that telling Harry would only lead to him caring for the green eyed boy more than he already did, only to lose him to this fight in the end. But these were things he could ignore or push away to deal with some other time….a distant un-imagined time, not like now. When Harry talked about quitting what they did have altogether. _

_Draco didn’t think he could bear that…he didn’t want to give this up…someday maybe, but not now._

_“You know why Draco….”Harry said referring to conversations they had already had numerous times…conversations that Draco would rather forget._

_Draco shifted back, moving his lips so that he was placing small chaste kisses down Harry’s spine, loving how he shuddered at the feel…”No, we can talk about this later Harry….not now. Just enjoy this here and now…please?” Draco asked between kisses._

_Harry shuddered again, opening his mouth as though to protest what Draco was asking but Draco didn’t give him time grabbing both of Harry’s shoulders and dragging the wizard back with him further onto the bed._

_“uhh…OH….o-okay” Harry gasped out as Draco set to thoroughly distract him. They could talk about this later….he could tell Harry his feelings later._

_There would be time later._

_(end flashback)_

It had been his dream—no, memory of years past that had finally brought Draco to be in the situation he was now in. Well, that dream and Harry’s advice to him over the holidays. It had seemed like the right thing to do, to say this morning…now though, sitting here and facing Lucius he wasn’t so sure.

Draco fought not to squirm under his father’s cold gaze—well no, not gaze exactly….while most people would call it that, Draco knowing his father as well as he did knew that this expression on Lucius’s face was the equivalent to a full-out red-faced, tendon popping glare on anyone else’s face.

“What did you say?” Lucius asked once again, his voice cold enough to shatter glass, his steel grey eyes bearing down on Draco as though looking for a sign that this was not actually his son but some poor, disappointing polyjuiced version of him.

“I-I….um, I don’t want to m-marry Astoria?” Draco repeated hating how shaky and meek his voice sounded. Even now….after having survived a war that involved terribly horrifying situations and tasks, even now that he was legally an adult (well, in the wizarding world anyway—and he really could care less about whatever the stupid muggles had to say in that regard) he still could not face his father’s anger and disapproval without wanting to shrink into a tiny little ball and hide in a closet somewhere (which was rather ironic when you thought about it—the closest part, not the shrinking part, that is).

“That’s what I thought you said” Lucius stated disdain dripping and seemingly drowning the pale, shaky boy in front of him, “thankfully this marriage is not about what you _want_ Draco, but what the family needs….I thought you were enough of a man to understand such things….”

“I do….bu..” Draco started to defend himself against his father’s voiced and more importantly unvoiced accusations ‘ _you aren’t the son I want,’ ‘you are a disappointment,’ ‘you don’t care enough about the family to make the necessary sacrifices’, ‘you are unworthy.’_ Oh yes, Draco heard them loud and clear without them ever having to be said.

“No, enough Draco. I do not know what has gotten into you or what is the matter, but enough. You will not shame the Malfoy name by breaking off this engagement to Astoria. Do you have any idea how hard it was to find you a worthy marriage contract after the ministry mess? Do you? It is up to you to bring the Malfoy name up from the ashes….Malfoy’s are not weak Draco, they do not get caught up in such ridiculously childish things such as ‘feelings’ and wants. You will marry Astoria and that is the end of it. I never thought that Greengrasse wanting a longer engagement and moving the wedding back a few months would be a blessing in disguise. You have three months to get over...” Lucius paused his nose wrinkling like he smelt something particularly foul, “…whatever _this_ is. Do you understand?”

Draco wanted to argue, really he did. He wanted to straighten his spine, turn up his nose and dismiss his father in the same manner Lucius had been dismissing Draco for years. He wanted to scream and rant and tell his father that the only reason that the Malfoy name was so besmirched now was because _he_ —not Draco, _he_ had chosen the wrong side of the war to side with. He wanted….

But one look at his father’s icy eyes and tightly drawn mouth and all the things he _wanted_ evaporated before his eyes. He knew Harry was right, he knew what the boy savoir would have done…how he would have stood up to this man—no, tyrant in front of him and told him to take his gilded cage and gold bars and stuff it…but, he also knew that he was not Harry. No, if he was Harry he would have told the boy he loved-- .and yes, after all this time and after he had already let him get away Draco knew that it was love…not loathing, not like…but love—the truth. But he couldn’t.

He had tried…really he had.

He had floo-ed all the way to that godforsaken hole they called Ohio, planning on finally telling Harry the truth. That he, Draco Malfoy was in love with him; that even when they had finally quit the extra part of their friendship that Draco had never stopped wishing they hadn’t, that he should have said something back then but he was too much of a coward to say it and had let Harry go. That he had thought Harry would never see their ‘relationship’ as anything more than friends with benefits and that he was okay with just being friends, but in the end Draco really wasn’t. But once again he had chickened out.

He had given some lame ass excuse about Ron annoying him and needing Harry to fix it, and when Harry had asked again—giving him a perfect opening to tell the truth he had told only half of it…cheapened it by implying they could go back to ‘benefits’ when he married some girl he didn’t love. He had even had the gall to feel stung when Harry had turned him down. It had been too late then to take those words back and ask what he really wanted to ask, so he hadn’t.

Even then he had figured that he still had time, still had a chance—after all it had been perfectly clear to Draco how very strained relations where between the green eyed teen and his _bonded_ (Draco couldn’t help but sneer at the word…it wasn’t fair that the ungrateful, squib was bonded to Harry when Draco was not, and likely never would be). He had figured that there was still time, that he would talk to Harry at Christmas and tell him the truth….it was okay.

But then it wasn’t okay….not even a little bit.

Christmas time had come and even though he had missed Harry’s impassioned speech (Astoria had a headache and wanted to leave early), he had heard about it. But he figured that it was simply the public being the public, making up stuff or at least exaggerating it (because only months earlier the squib and Harry had hated each other and surely, surely things couldn’t change that fast?).

And then he had walked in on them….together—Harry flushed and wanton, like only Draco had ever been able to make Harry (Harry had told him once that he was Harry’s first) and he felt his heart shattering again.

He had insisted on taking Harry for lunch to find out just how much Harry actually cared for the boy, and what he had seen and heard (again those unspoken things were usually the most telling) he knew that he was too late. That Harry, even if he would not admit it, cared for the American….maybe even the beginning threads of love. And Draco couldn’t tell him, couldn’t put that on Harry because he had no doubt that Harry would feel conflicted and guilty and Draco couldn’t do that to him…not when he was finally smiling again.

So he had been silent. Like before….like when he had kept silent and let Harry walk into the arms of the ginger haired tramp; it was history repeating itself, but this time….this time Draco wasn’t sure if he would get another chance. This time Harry just might stay out of reach.

He wanted Harry to be happy; really he did….but he couldn’t lose him again. Not like before. He couldn’t watch him go in silence, living with regret and what-ifs for the rest of his life. He just couldn’t.

“Yes, Father I understand” Draco stated not looking down when Lucius stared into his eyes. Seemingly satisfied, Lucius flicked his wrist indicating that Draco was dismissed. Draco rose and walked steadily out of his father’s office, a slow smirk coming to his lips as he shut the door behind him.

Yes, father he understood. He understood that if he did not take this chance….act like a Gryffindor instead of the Slytherin he was for once in his life, that he would forever regret it. He knew that he shouldn’t do it…shouldn’t say anything but he also knew that if he didn’t and there was even the slightest chance that Harry could return his feelings—love him back, love him more then he liked his partner, that it would be worth the risk.

Draco reached his room and quietly closed the door behind him, moving to his desk and its locked door. Fishing out the key he always kept on a chain around his neck, he clicked the key in place and slid the drawer open, taking out the piece of paper inside. It was one of the only things he risked keeping from back then—he stared down at the rough sketch that he had taken without the owner’s knowledge. It showed two boys entwined, the blonds head resting on the ravens chest, sleeping peacefully as though everything was right in the world.

Draco didn’t know when Harry had drawn them….but he could roughly guess when the picture was depicting. It had been maybe three weeks after they had moved to ‘more than friends’ and they had accidently fallen asleep in the room of requirements, too tired to care about the consequences of their dalliance getting out. It had been one of the best nights Draco had ever had. When he had stumbled across the picture several weeks after that night he couldn’t resist taking it….he never told Harry he took it, and Harry never mentioned its absence.

It was how things should be….how they were meant to be. Not Harry with the squib or him with Astoria, but Harry and him together.

Harry was right….he needed to stop being a coward and start living for himself for once. Live life how he wanted for a change…not how society or his father thought he should.

And he wanted Harry…..and for once in his life he was going to fight for what he wanted.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:
> 
> Song artist and song: All American Rejects: Dirty little secret 
> 
> *In reference to the chapter title and a few references throughout the chapter about ‘people noticing’ it’s not meant literally. Obviously people already think that the boys are together and therefore sleeping together so it would be a little ridiculous of them to think that they could keep their relationship from anyone. Instead the chapter title is more how Harry is currently feeling about their relationship, not so much that he is ‘a secret affair’ to Sebastian but that their relationship is mainly physical gratification to the other boy or just a fun little fling to pass time until they can officially be free of each other. As to the second part where he worries about people noticing their disheveled states after their change room foray, he is simply worried because I see him as being a more private guy, embarrassed at getting caught in a compromising position despite the confident cocky air he tries and portray to everyone. Make sense? Hope so ;)


	13. Is your Love in vain?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! sorry for the long(ish) waits in-between chapters, I have no excuse. This chapter is a little shorter then the last few, for that I apolagize...it is mainly a transition type chapter-that's right now that our boys have started to pull their heads out of their...cough cough...they are going to start hitting some road bumps. Communication boys! you can't build a relationship without a healthy foundation...yeesh. So hang in their, their is misunderstandings and angst ahead (mainly in the following two chapters). 
> 
> Please let me know what you think per usual (every review motivates me to write just a little faster!). This story's plot is completely planned out and the story itself will be seventeen chapters, plus a epilogue.
> 
> Okay, enough of my yammering...heres the chapter, enjoy!

 

**\---------------------------00----------------------------------**

_Do you love me,_

_Or are you just extending good will?_

_Do you need me as half as you say,_

_Or are you just extending good will?_

_\---------------------------00-------------------------------------------------_

**_March_ **

Sebastian wasn’t in the mood to talk. No, he had just left a Warbler council meeting and after hours of sitting and debating with his fellow class mates he was looking for a release…thankfully, he knew just where he could find such release. And yes, he was referring to ~~his~~ —no, _the_ green eyed minx drawing upstairs in their shared dorm room (because Harry wasn’t his—not really; he did not belong to Sebastian, there was no mutually reached agreement that what they had together was meant to be anything more than a here and now convenience). Though that didn’t detract from the enjoyment gotten from said activities; it was one of the best things about moving away from their hostile relations…the sex. Yes, the sex was unbelievable, Sebastian could say with certainty that it was best sex he had ever had—and he considered himself quite the connoisseur of sexual interactions. It was worth whatever hassle came with being bonded, to be able to indulge in such sex whenever he wanted, and that was without taking into account all the other benefits he was slowly discovering regarding his and Harry’s ‘relationship’.

And maybe that was the real reason he was not in the mood to talk but rather in the mood to snog with the wizard….it was getting harder and harder to delude himself with his mantra that what he and Harry had was just great sex. He knew that he was probably freaking out about nothing—that what Harry wanted from him couldn’t be anymore then Sebastian was willing to currently give, but deep down he knew that this to was another delusion that he had been clinging to in hopes of forestalling a panic attack and rash reaction.  

He knew he was lying to both himself and Harry; he had after all seen the certain look in Harry’s eyes (although the wizard tried to hide it—and was largely successful in doing so, thus leading to Sebastian’s other doubts), the look that spoke of wanting to have certain, significant conversations where things like commitment, feelings and crap like that were discussed.

He knew that once they had that conversation that Sebastian would have to make a decision….a decision he was not sure he was quite ready to make. He would either have to bare all, admit to Harry that maybe, just maybe Sebastian felt something for him outside of physical attraction and lust—a confession that would no doubt lead to the first aforementioned thing…the thing that Sebastian feared more than most things…commitment.

And maybe his fear of said thing sounded a little ridiculous, after all they were already bonded and he had not been with anyone outside of Harry for months…even before Christmas and his and Harry’s resumption of their own bedroom (choir room, closet, bathroom, hallway…go get the point) activities. But to actually lay it out on the line, to make it official and not just an unspoken assumption, was not something Sebastian wanted to face just yet (or ever really). And why did they need to face up to such things? Why couldn’t they just continue as is….indefinitely? He was happy, and he knew that Harry enjoyed their time together, so why did it need to change?

Because he knew that if he spoke those words out loud, if he formally acknowledged Harry’s unspoken feelings and more importantly his own unspoken ones that things would change. And in Sebastian’s experience change was never good… it never ended with the best case scenario.

What if he committed and suddenly found that things changed? That the acknowledged ‘deeper’ connection made Harry less fun and more clingy? What if he suddenly expected them to act like a proper couple—and do couplish things? Spend every second together, stay in most nights, become boring? But at the same time, what if he didn’t expect those things…would that mean that he wasn’t actually serious about Sebastian after all and was just committing because it was expected. You see how confusing talking could make things?

But worse, what if Harry didn’t want to commit at all…what if Sebastian had misread the Brit? What if he really did just see Sebastian as a means to an end? Yes, maybe it was the last fear that truly had Sebastian avoiding such things like talking.

Talking could only lead to change, and change was never a good thing….best to pretend he didn’t see the disappointment in Harry’s eyes every time he turned away after sex. Some things where just better left unsaid.

\--oo--

“Fuck” Sebastian gasped slumping down onto his partner’s now loose limbed body, to tired and sated to put any real effort into not crushing the wizard below him. Not that Harry minded at the moment, for he too was still too caught up in coming down from his own orgasm to mind the extra weight pressing him into the mattress.

They lay there limbs tangled for a few long minutes before the haze had lifted enough for them to become aware of their surroundings again.

“Urg….grrroff” Harry mumbled giving Sebastian’s shoulder a weak push and squirming with discomfort. Sebastian groaned loudly but complied, slipping out of Harry leaving the wizard feeling oddly empty and bereft. The warbler rolled to the side, tying and discarding the used condom before slumping back onto the bed with his long arm draped over his eyes.

“mm…I needed that” he muttered more to himself then Harry.

“I could tell” Harry grimaced slightly as he shifted and felt the sting from their activities….they had both gotten a little carried away this time, not that he actually minded—a wee bit of bruising and discomfort were well worth the pleasure that came from a hard fuck, in his opinion anyhow.

They lay there in comfortable silence for another long few minutes before Harry heard the tell tale and increasingly familiar crinkle of sheets and shift of weight, indicating that Sebastian had moved to get off the bed and was now in the process of searching out his discarded clothes.

Harry screwed his eyes together and rolled slightly so that his face was partially pressed into the pillow feigning sleepiness. In truth, he was preventing himself from saying something that he might regret later….like asking Sebastian to stay for once. He hated this part…..while yes, he could not deny he enjoyed everything before this part of the process immensely, he hated the after math. The countless times that his post climax bliss was punctured by Sebastian’s distant and reticent behavior following.

The night of their bonding was the only time after sex that Sebastian had actually stayed in bed with Harry for more than ten-fifteen minutes after they were finished. And while Harry didn’t expect sweet words and flowers or anything like that, he couldn’t help but feel somehow cheapened by Sebastian’s reluctance to stay. He knew he was probably being oversensitive, reading far more into the situation then was actually there, but he couldn’t help but be reminded of Kurt, Hunter’s and how ever many other’s words at times like this.

Words that suggested that Sebastian was only ever in something for the sex….that regardless of the conversations and friendship they had started to build, that it was outside of their actual ‘relationship.’ He sometimes felt like there were two different Sebastians; the one that was his friend and confidant, and the one that was just sleeping with him in order to get off. He hated it, but he was far too proud to say anything.

There was no way he was going to become that person; clingy, insecure and needy…the one that was in need of reassurance that what they had was more then what they actually had. No….it was fine, things would change eventually he just had to be patient, wait this out.

Plus it wasn’t as though he didn’t enjoy the sex just as much as Sebastian did….so really, why risk screwing what did work up completely just because he was feeling a little insecure?

\--o--

Hunter wouldn’t say that he was a diabolical genius….except that, he kinda was. No really, he was….even he didn’t know how he pulled off some of the shit that he had and had still managed to get away relatively unscathed (well, minus the whole hazing gone wrong—that was really the first time that he had actually ever been caught up in the mess that followed in his wake—however that one failure wouldn’t matter for long because this time he had no intention of getting caught). He could admit he had been a tad nervous since Christmas, not sure just how he was going to manipulate the right players into saying and doing what he wanted them to do, in order to achieve what he wanted to achieve….aka: Sebastian Symthe’s total and complete melt down, subsequent withdrawal from Harvard and a new opening for a Dalton boy…cough cough, him.

Of course he could have gone about this the ‘right’ way; hard work, good essay and a prayer but really that was ridiculous…plus there was the whole scandal and record blemish thing….so, honestly this way had just seemed easier. Except that it was turning out to be a lot more work then he had originally anticipated--from the stories he had heard of Sebastian’s last year here, he hadn’t thought that it would take much to push the Warbler over the edge…turns out he was a lot more level headed then Hunter had hoped—but no matter, with what he now had in his possession it was only a matter of time.

Hunter quietly re-zipped the nondescript gym bag, keeping a careful ear out for the sound of running water; normally he wouldn’t have been worried about getting caught snooping through someone else’s bag but when this all went down he wanted absolutely no suspicion to fall on him. True, even if they did suspect something and had evidence of his meddling there was little that they would be able to do in the long run, but considering his precarious standing with Harvard’s admission already he would prefer not to have any culpability fall back on him. Not to mention getting caught snooping through Harry’s bag was not the same as getting caught snooping through someone else’s bag. With another, less suspicious and wary person, he could easily pass it off as looking to borrow socks or what have you, Harry however, had a rather unhealthy (even if it would be correct in the given situation) amount of suspicion—definite trust issues that one--mind you those trust issues would be exactly what Hunter was planning on playing on down the line.

Tucking the stolen letter into his pocket, Hunter yelled a nonchalant goodbye and left the changing room intent on finding somewhere to reread the letter in more detail. From what he had glimpsed, it was basically a golden ticket into the beginning part of his scheme. Whoever this Draco was to Harry, there could be no mistaking the undertones of the letter that Draco was…or at least had been something more than just a ‘friend’ to the Brit at one point. And from what he had seen, this bloke was still hoping for more.

Honestly it couldn’t be more perfect if he had tried. Ducking into an empty class room, Hunter unfolded the letter and reread it….true Draco didn’t come right out and ask Harry to get back together with him but it would take a moron not to read between the lines of the letter and come to that conclusion.

_Harry,_

_First off I feel as though I should apologize, I know that it has been awhile since my last letter to you but I needed time to consider our conversation at Christmas and your advice. At first I did not want to consider what you said as the wedding has been set in stone far before Father told me about it. But, as always it would seem that while your advice is annoying and not what I wanted to hear, that it is sound._

_I tried to tell father, but as you might have guessed he was not very receptive to my opinion. The wedding has however been put off for a few months due to Astoria’s request, so I have a slight reprieve before I have to make any final decision._

_I really must talk to you in person before that time, there are things that I need to tell you that can only be said face to face….things that I wish I had told you long ago. Please say that you will agree to meet up with me within the next few weeks? I believe you have your spring break coming up soon—which by the way is another idiotic muggle tradition, why on earth would they take a break when they are so close to finishing?—but anyway, maybe we could get together then? I could flo over there or if you are coming back to England for a bit….._

_Just please say you will, it is important._

_Send me your response with Serpen’s—father was rather cross with getting muggle mail on his door step._

_Yours Truly,_

_Draco_

Oh sure, it could be read and taken as completely innocent, this person; Draco, could want to talk to Harry about anything really, but Hunter did not think this was the case. And more importantly, he didn’t think that Sebastian would think so either. Of course it was still a long shot that it would have the effect that Hunter was hoping it would have, but hopefully it would at least turn into a small bone of contention between the two of them. Even more so if Harry hadn’t mentioned his continued contact with Draco—if Hunter remembered right, the stuffy blond that had shown up a few months back had been called Draco, and if he was right (which he almost always was) the blond and Sebastian had butted heads rather severely. And that was before Sebastian and Harry seemed to start working things out. He had sensed jealousy even back then…just imagine how suspicious and jealous the blond could make Symthe now that he actually seemed to care for his husband….

Well, either way it was worth a shot…now all he had to do was leave the letter in a spot that Sebastian would find it but looked like Harry was hiding it.

Yes, this shouldn’t be terribly hard to do. He was a diabolical genius after all.

\---00--

Harry tore through his bag once again, ‘where the hell had he put it?’ He was sure that he had placed Draco’s last letter in his bag this morning after skimming through it…and yet, it was not here.

Having looked through his gym bag once again, only to come up with a few unwashed tee-shirts and a stick of deodorant (he could have used a charm for the latter but found that he preferred the muggle method as the magical one left his skin feeling like he hadn’t taken a shower in a few weeks) he let out a disgruntled sigh and tossed the now empty bag aside. Well maybe he had just imagined putting the letter in his bag he had been a little distracted what with Sebastian walking into their room with nothing but a towel on…

He pushed the small guilty twinge away, telling himself that the reason he had hidden Draco’s letter so quickly this morning was because he had wanted to appreciate his husband’s near naked form and not because he was actively hiding the fact that he and Draco were regularly corresponding. It wasn’t as though he shouldn’t communicate with Draco—he was allowed to have friends outside of the American one’s he had made (even if he was still a little hesitant to call them friends, after having formed friendships that endured a war and a evil mass murderer it was a little hard to place the silly high school alliances and friendships in the same category as his older friendships). And it wasn’t as though he thought Sebastian would ever try to deny him this, it was just….well, as bad as it sounded, easier.

Yes, Harry was now—not exactly ‘lying’ to his spouse—but perhaps omitting certain things because it was ‘easier.’ It made him want to cringe when he thought of it in that light….he hated the fact that he was taking the easy route, the cowardly route really, but he was just so tired. Tired of fighting for happiness that he shouldn’t have to fight for any longer, tired of confrontations and arguments—he and Sebastian had finally reached a point where Harry, while not completely happy, could say that he was genuinely content, and he just didn’t feel like bringing up things that would only cause more arguments or push Sebastian to act out—either into becoming angry or simply becoming cold and distant again. He just wanted them to remain in their happy, little bubble without all the outside shit.

So maybe, he hadn’t brought up Draco again….he remembered all too well the reaction his friend/former lover and his bonded had, had to each other. He knew that it would cause unneeded tension between him and Sebastian—and really it was completely unneeded and unwarranted, he and Draco were nothing but friends now—so why risk it? Why bring something up that he knew would just rock the boat? So yes, he had somehow gone from not mentioning Draco or bringing him up in conversation to while perhaps not actively hiding the fact that he and Draco had continued sending each other mail after Christmas, ‘forgetting’ to mention it …it shouldn’t matter in the long run, he told himself. He wouldn’t let it.

But regardless of the mixed feelings that Draco’s letters seemed to bring him these days that still didn’t change the fact that he had somehow seemed to have lost the last one. Scanning the small dorm room one more time, Harry gave up with a sigh. He had already read the letter and remembered the gist of it, so it didn’t _really_ matter if he couldn’t find it now, no, the only reason Harry had been upset at all was that he hated unexplained happenings. And while he was pretty sure he had likely just dropped or misplaced the damn thing—he couldn’t quite shake a niggling of worry over it.

But he was being ridiculous, it was a simple letter from a friend—sure he had sensed something a little different in the tone of this letter then previous ones, but he told himself he was simply imagining it. Draco likely just wanted to talk to him about his upcoming wedding and receive support for thinking about going against his father. Something that any friend would hope for; nothing earth shattering, nothing important or life changing had been in the letter, so really….there was no reason to worry.

Right?

\--0--

Sebastian couldn’t help but surreptitiously glance over his shoulder at the door yet again. He knew that he had locked it and that the chances of Harry walking in on him right at this moment were next to nil, especially since he had made sure that Harry was out for his long run and therefore would not walk in on Sebastian riffling through his stuff.

Guilt was a funny thing really, it had a way of trickling in and making one second guess their decisions….it played on your fears and heightened them, creating paranoia where normally there would be none. Sebastian knew –not even having to delve deep down to know—that what he was doing was ridiculous and wrong in so many ways. He knew that searching through Harry’s things said more than that he just didn’t respect his husband’s privacy—no, it was really saying that not only was he okay with stepping over personal boundaries but that he didn’t trust Harry, or what they had enough to not do it.

All this he knew, and yet here he was searching any way. But he just couldn’t help it….he had resisted initially. He had found the letter haphazardly tucked away in-between one of Harry’s textbook covers—one that Harry had left there by accident (Sebastian knew it was on accident because Harry normally carried his calc text book with him everywhere, it had always amused him because he knew how much Harry hated the subject. He figured his husband did it as an odd type of self penance….or guilt trip to himself. As though if he carried the text book around with him enough, he would eventually cave and work on his always procrastinated assignment).

It was one of the reasons that Sebastian went and grabbed the text book to start with…he was so surprised to see it sitting there, that he hadn’t given it a second thought about grabbing it to take with him, so that he could hand it in a half mocking-half joking gesture to his bonded. What he hadn’t expected, was for a neatly folded-rather expensive looking letter to fall out from between the cover; an expensive, _hand written_ letter from _Draco._

Oh, he knew he shouldn’t have cared….that the fact that Harry was talking regularly (as he-- after he had read the letter-- now assumed was regularly and not a onetime thing) to the flirty, predatory blond arse without having ever mentioned this fact to him…it shouldn’t have meant a damn thing. And for a week or so, he had managed to convince himself of this….or at least attempt to convince himself of this. He was not a needy, insecure guy—he had never been the jealous type (okay, who was he kidding?), he was most definitely not someone who doubted whether or not he was enough to keep his partners interest….

And yet, it would seem that he was.

For as hard as he had tried to first put the letter out of his mind (and yes he had read it—and the contents while not what he feared, still hadn’t really made him feel a whole lot better) and then talk himself into just asking Harry about it (but then he would have had to admit to reading it in the first place and it wasn’t exactly something he wanted to fess up to at the moment), neither had stuck.

And since he could not dismiss his niggling’s of doubt or find the courage to confront Harry about his secret letters, he had somehow convinced himself that he had only one option left…..yes, somehow, someway he had gone off the deep end and now found himself locking their dorm room door and snooping through Harry’s belongings trying to find more ‘secret letters.’ Trying to find proof that would either reassure him that there was nothing to worry about, or prove his fears so that he could storm and rage and do something about them.

Of course the guilt of doing so wasn’t making the task any easier, especially when Harry had sent him a quirky, trusting smile as he headed out the door to go for his run—light heartedly teasing him for being lazy and hanging around the room all afternoon. Yeah, he kinda felt like scum right then and there. But he had committed now, and he wasn’t going to back out in the final quarter....(great now he was using crappy sports metaphors, kill him now).

Thing was….after searching, digging and all around snooping for the past thirty minutes, he was no further ahead with his information finding session then he had been before he had first started. There was no evidence that Harry was ‘cheating’ on him with this Draco….to be fair there was no evidence that he wasn’t either….in fact there was no evidence what-so-ever. No letters, no secret meeting places, nada.

Sebastian sighed, half relieved at not having found anything, and half disappointed that he was proving to be that creepy, obsessive spouse after all. He was just about to give it up for a slight slip into the wacky pool and go down to the gym to try and straighten his head out, when he caught sight of Harry’s sketch pad and paused.

He shouldn’t. It was private….Harry had asked him to wait to look at his drawings, he should respect that. Really he should.

And yet once again, he found himself ignoring his own good sense and going against that little voice in his head, glancing once more at the door before moving to grab and open the bound pad. He honestly wasn’t sure what he had expected to find in it; so he wasn’t quite sure why he was so surprised.

He knew that he should probably be a tad worried or disturbed by the rather dark and graphic picture he was staring at….but oddly enough, he wasn’t. In truth he found it rather memorizing…he knew that Harry had been through some tough shit in his life; an abusive childhood, a war where he was basically a child soldier—and maybe it was because of this knowledge that he didn’t freak out at the sketches of maimed bodies and gore.

No, that sounded bad—it made it sound as though Harry was some secret psychopathic killer, obsessed with dead and body parts. No, the sketches weren’t like that, yes they were without a doubt violent and rather detailed, but there was no doubt in Sebastian’s mind that they were of actually events Harry had witnessed—not imagined. They were of battle fields and victims, of things that no person—and certainly no child should have had to deal with.

For the first time since he had gotten together with Harry, Sebastian found himself unsure of their relationship, not because of his own commitment issues or fear of losing autonomy, but because he honestly didn’t know if he could be enough for Harry. He didn’t know how he was suppose to be with someone who had experienced and had been through so much more in his life then he had….he wasn’t sure he could handle that pressure, that responsibility.

While hearing Harry talk about his past had been a little unnerving and….well, let’s face it, awe-inspiring (because how could anyone not be a little inspired by a child with so much strength that he not only survived the events that Harry had, but had also come out of them relatively unchanged?), seeing such violence and scenes of horror made those previously described events so much more real. Before it had been easy to keep himself distanced from the stories—they were just that stories…and while seeing a few sketches of them, wasn’t anywhere near the same as witnessing such acts and events first hand, it just highlighted how very different their backgrounds truly were.

Harry should be with someone who could relate to what he had been through, someone who had been through the same….someone, well, someone like that annoying blond. Sebastian couldn’t say for certain, but he would bet that Draco was just as much a survivor and fighter as Harry was. Maybe Harry would be better off with someone like that.

Sebastian flipped through the next few sketches, amazed at the detail and talent behind them but again uncomfortable with just how much about Harry he still didn’t know, when he came to a half finished picture.

It took his breath away….

Not because of the skill or detail behind the drawing—really it was only half finished—but because of the content. He had never really thought about how others might see him….ok no, that was a lie. Of course he had thought about how others saw him….everyone did. No, perhaps what he meant to say, was that he had never really considered that others might see him in anything other than a negative light before.

The seducer, the home-wrecker, the failure of a son, the train-wreck, the slut….those were all things he had heard over and over again—both shouted and silent. He didn’t even know when he had started to see himself like that as well. But the sketch before him….

The sketch before him didn’t show him as any of those things…in fact he couldn’t even label the Sebastian shown in this picture….if he had to, he might have called it….well, happy. He didn’t even know when this Sebastian had shown itself long enough for Harry to capture it on paper….he certainly didn’t remember him making an appearance.

But no, that too was a lie. Because thinking back on it, these last few months Sebastian had been happy. Or correction, he had been happy when Harry was around. The realization hit him like a bucket of cold water, shocking him back into the present and causing him to hastily close Harry’s sketch pad and stuff it back under the pile of papers that it had formerly been placed.

What was he doing? What on earth had possessed him to go through Harry’s stuff like this? He couldn’t’ help but flush in shame over his actions. Well, enough. He was going to stop the craziness right here and right now. If Harry could draw him like that, then some silly letter shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter that they were as opposite as day and night at times. It didn’t matter that Harry hadn’t shared absolutely everything with him….they were just letters. They didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if he might not be the best option for Harry, because one thing Sebastian knew he was, was selfish. And if the only way he could see the Sebastian in Harry’s sketch in real life was with Harry, then nothing else mattered. It would all work out, it would all be okay. He was fine. Harry was fine, he and Harry were fine. Their relationship was fine.

Everything was perfectly fine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: 
> 
> Song artist and song: Bob Dylan, “Is your love in vain”


	14. Ice Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh so sorry for the long wait between chapters. The last chapter had me second guessing myself as the reviews dropped drastically and I was trying to figure out if it was something to do with the story. If it was PLEASE PLEASE let me know! This chapter is actaully half of what it was orginally was going to be-I eneded up the month of April up into two chapters-this is the first of the two. Please let me know what you think, bad or good every word of feed back helps! 
> 
> Alright without further ado...read on!

 

**\-----------------o----------------------**

_When the leaves have fallen_

_And the skies turn grey._

_The night keeps on closing In on the day,_

_A nightingale’s sings his song of farewell_

_You better hide from her freezing hell_

_\-------------------------0--------------------------------_

**_April_ **

Sebastian stared at the rather terrified looking freshmen in confusion, wondering why said bed-wetter had come up to him in the first place…thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long for his answer.

“S-senior S-Smythe?” the boy squeaked out his question.

Sebastian didn’t bother giving him a verbal answer, instead raising an eyebrow in his typical condescending manner.

“T-the Headmaster w-would like to see you…” the poor boy stuttered, then not waiting for an answer turned and fled as though he was being chased by nothing less than the hounds of hell themselves.

Sebastian allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction—really, you had to take joy in the small things in life…like having a reputation fearsome enough to cause younger student (ok, basically all students) to have a mental meltdown at the mere thought of having to approach you—before he sighed and altered his course heading in the direction of the administrative building instead of the track like he had originally intended. Hopefully, Harry would figure out that he had gotten waylaid and head out for his run without waiting for him.

Honestly, while he was a little disappointed to miss out on spending more time with Harry (a fact that he still had a little bit of trouble admitting even if only to himself) he was not all that sad to be missing whatever torture-fest Harry decided on as their running route this afternoon. Seriously, for someone so deceptively scrawny, the boy had some serious endurance and pain tolerance.

Sebastian came to a stop outside the thick oak door that he knew to be the Headmaster’s office, wondering briefly what on earth the man could want to see him about. Had this been a year ago, Sebastian would have automatically assumed it was something disciplinary wise, but as far as he was aware, this year at least he hadn’t done anything to warrant a visit to see Barnhart. Shaking it off-- as there was no point in pondering when he could just go in and find out the answer to his question—Sebastian gave the door a tentative knock.

The deep tenor voice of Headmaster Barnhart sounded through, “Enter”

Upon seeing who was standing at his door, the deceivingly soft looking man gave Sebastian a smile and gestured for the teen to take a seat. “Ah…Mr. Smythe, I see that you received word that I wanted to speak with you”

Sebastian nodded his acknowledgment before perching on the edge of one of the uncomfortable straight back chairs set to face the headmaster’s own much more plush and cushy looking one. “What did you want to see me about headmaster?” Sebastian asked, careful to keep his tone deferential and respectful. Despite his past brushes with the man over concerns of a less savory nature, Sebastian had long since learned that people had short memories. A few charming smiles and polite words were often all it took for most people to forget past slights….at least that was what he was hoping.

And it seemed that his hope was not in vain, as he noted the marginal relaxing of the man’s stiff posture and how his smile became a bit less forced and more natural. “Ah, right….I called you here because I received a letter that I believe was meant for you” Barnhart stated, leaving the real question unvoiced. The question of why he was receiving mail meant for Sebastian here at all, when such correspondence would normally have gone to Sebastian’s manor, and in doing so his father.

Hiding his own confusion at the matter, Sebastian kept his carefully constructed mask in place, showing nothing but calm acceptance. “Of course” he stated and leant forward slightly to take the letter that the man was holding out to him. Glancing surreptitiously down at the thick envelope he had just received Sebastian had to bite down hard on his inner cheek to stop from showing his shock at the return address.

  _MIT Undergraduate Admissions Processing Center P.O. Box 404 Randolph, MA 02368*_

Why the heck was he getting a letter—a rather and official looking one at that—from MIT? After the disastrous talk with his father, Sebastian hadn’t bothered filling out his admission form…what was the point? It wasn’t as though he really had any hope of getting in anyway, so why risk rocking the boat for something that would never happen? Yet, here he was receiving mail from them….it just didn’t make any sense.

He could feel the calculating gaze from Barnhart on him, but he slipped the letter into his bag without pause. He knew that the headmaster was also wondering why he was receiving such mail—especially considering how close he and Smythe Sr. were—but Sebastian wasn’t about to satisfy the nosey man’s curiosity and open the letter in front of him. Sure, he knew that this would likely only cause the headmaster to pick up the phone and let his father know about the matter sooner…but frankly Sebastian didn’t care at the moment.

No, the only thing that he cared about right now was getting out of this office as quickly as possible and finding a private place to open and read the letter. Only after he found out why they were sending him anything in the first place, could he make a decision on how he should proceed. That decided, Sebastian looked up at the headmaster and gave him a polite smile, “was there anything else Headmaster?” he asked, knowing very well there wasn’t.

Barnhart frowned minutely before quickly replacing the frown with his own polite smile, “no, no…that was it….” He said than continued on as though it was an afterthought, “you do know Sebastian, that you can come to me anytime you have questions or concerns regarding different colleges and your future? Everything that we talk about would remain confidential…just between the two of us, you know that right?”

Sebastian forced the derisive snort that wanted to come out down, yeah confidential alright…right up until the time his father waved his wallet in the headmaster’s face and said the words ‘confidential donation’—then such conversations that were once labeled with that same adjective would become decidedly less so. “Of course, Headmaster” Sebastian replied instead in the sickly, ass kissing tone he had heard Hunter use so many times before.

Without waiting for further permission, Sebastian stood up and quickly exited the office, marching resolutely down the now mainly deserted hallways towards one of the alcoves that he had come to think of as his. Of course the alcove he was thinking about had rarely been used by him because he wanted to be alone in the past—well, that wasn’t entirely true—he had wanted to be alone…well, alone with whatever current conquest he had with him at the moment. But still, even though he hadn’t used it this year (what with the whole bonding thing and having much more enjoyable sex with Harry then any of his previous paramours) he knew that it was as good of place as any to be able to read his letter in private.

Ducking into the shadowy corner, Sebastian reached inside his bag and removed the innocuous looking envelope with slightly shaky hands. He wanted to curse himself for the nerves that he felt fluttering in his stomach, as he wasn’t even sure that this was anything to be nervous about,—hell, it could simply be a new gimmick to get more students to consider applying—but somehow he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that this was what he was trying not to hope it was.

Taking a deep breath, Sebastian quickly ripped open the end of the envelope and removed the folded documents from within before forcing himself to read the cursive script on the first page. He felt the breath he had taken leave him and he stared at the letter for several long minutes, not quite believing what he was reading.

Dear Sebastian,

On behalf of the Admissions Committee, it is our pleasure to offer you admission to the Class of 2000*. You stood out as one of the most talented and promising students in one of the most competitive applicant pools in the history of the institute.

It is our sincerest regret to inform you that the finical aid package you applied for has been denied. Please feel free to contact one of our admission advisors to review alternative options if needed.

You have until June, 1, 1999 to inform us of your decision. We look forward to hearing from you and hope to count you among one of our students in the upcoming year.

Sincerely,

Caroline Rieters,

Associate Dean,

Office of Administration

 

Wha…how?...when….

It had to have been Harry…there was just no other logical explanation for his half filled out MIT application and essay to have somehow magically completed and sent itself to the admissions office. Magically—he snorted at that thought, briefly wondering if Harry had in fact used magic to finish the damn thing…not that it really mattered. No, what mattered was the fact that he had somehow…someway gotten accepted into his dream school; one of the most difficult and hard to get into schools in the states.

Sebastian wasn’t sure what to feel in that moment. A part of him (admittedly a rather small part) wanted to be angry at Harry for invading his privacy and going behind his back, yet another part….a much larger and quickly becoming prominent part of him wanted to go track down the infuriating wizard and kiss the hell out of him. No one had ever done something like this for him before.

No one knew him enough to have considered doing so…to know that even though he had placed the application aside and half convinced himself that it wasn’t that important, that he really hadn’t discarded the idea completely. Sure, he had put it to the side for the time being….planning on going down the path his father had wanted him to; attend Harvard, become a lawyer, then perhaps in a few years….after his father had turned his attention onto other things, he would go back and apply. Take a course or two—if only to satisfy his own desire to learn more from said field.

And why would they? It wasn’t as though Sebastian had run around letting everyone know that he enjoyed math more than just enough to get good grades and be naturally good at it--that seeing equations and problems unsolved was soothing rather than vexing to him, as it was to most people.

But Harry had. And Harry had taken it a step further….done what Sebastian didn’t have the courage to do himself. Oddly enough, instead of being offended, he was rather touched by the thought.

Not that simply getting accepted into MIT truly fixed everything or really even anything….especially considering the letter said the finical coverage was denied. There was less than 0.0001% chance that his father would be willing to foot the bill for Sebastian to go to such a place.

Still, Sebastian couldn’t quite bring himself to crumple up the letter and toss it away. It had been so much easier to do so when he hadn’t gotten an affirmative answer….

He caressed the letter in an almost reverent manner, before folding it carefully and placing it back in his bag. He wouldn’t worry about it right now….he had a little bit of time yet to figure things out, to try and come up with an argument that might sway Smythe Sr….hell, maybe he could approach his mother?—he and Harry were going to see her come spring break anyway….

Well, however this ended up, Sebastian was determined that he would give everything he had to getting the resolution that he wanted.

He owed it not only to Harry, but to himself.

\--0--

Harry walked slowly back towards his and Sebastian’s room; his current speed more due to the fact that he was thinking heavily, then the fact that he was actually exhausted from his run with Hunter. The last part of that statement was one of the reasons he was so deep in thought to begin with.

His run… with Hunter. Not with Sebastian, as they had originally planned.

And no, the fact that Sebastian had failed to show up for their run (without texting him or otherwise informing him) was not what was truly causing him pause. No, in all honesty had Hunter not mentioned the fact, he probably wouldn’t have given it a second thought at all. Sebastian often seemed to get caught up doing something or other when they were suppose to meet up, and more often than not he forgot or just didn’t bother to let Harry know. Really, Harry was rather used to that fact—it wasn’t even something that really bothered him….well, it hadn’t been.

Hadn’t been, up until Hunter made that seemingly innocent off-hand remark that is.

( _Forty minutes earlier: cross-country track)_

_“Christ Harry, give a guy a break and slow down a bit yeah?” Hunter panted out, looking noticeably more disheveled than the preppy teen generally allowed himself to look._

_Harry sent him a cocky smirk, but did as asked—clearly slowing the tempo of their run down._

_“Fuck, if it’s the tea that lets you run like you’re the road runner on crack then maybe I should give in and start drinking the swill” Hunter grouched, though he looked much less crabby at this pace then their previous one._

_“Nah….wouldn’t help you Clarington. Some of us just move faster than others” Harry said with a grin and a waggle of his eyebrows._

_Hunter snorted at his terrible innuendo, “Guess you and Sebastian really are meant for each other then huh?” he said smiling though his tone made it was hard to tell if he was joking or not._

_As they rounded the final corner that cut through the more treed part of the Dalton grounds, slowing to a cool down pace for the last half a mile, Hunter looked over at Harry once more, a hard to read expression on his face, “Where is Smythe today anyway? Thought he was joining?”_

_Harry purposefully kept his gaze ahead on the running path, shrugging one shoulder nonchalantly, “Don’t know. Probably had something come up…you know how it is” he said._

_“No….actually I don’t really….how is it?” Hunter spoke again, his tone mild._

_Harry for once was glad that they were still jogging; it made the urge to fidget and blush much easier to control (for the first) and hide (for the second). “Er….well you know; school, lacrosse, the warblers….worrying about the end of school and everything. He’s busy, I’m busy…sometimes plans just don’t pan out” Harry stated aiming for looking cool and unaffected by Hunter’s question. He didn’t care that Sebastian hadn’t shown, like he said they were busy…so what if he missed a meeting or two? Harry had, had to cancel on him just last week—it wasn’t a big deal._

_For a few minutes silence overtook the two boys, and Harry gave a silent breath of relief that Hunter was going to allow the subject to drop. Unfortunately it looked like he breathed too soon._

_“I don’t know how you do it, I don’t think I would be able to….but I guess that’s why you’re married to him and not me” Hunter said giving a short easy laugh at the end._

_“Do what?” Harry asked slightly confused by the comment._

_By now both boys had stopped jogging and were walking the last few hundred yards to the dormitory entrance, Hunter shifted looking suddenly uncomfortable, “um…never mind. Ignore me and my big mouth…must be the lack of oxygen” he said quickly with a stilted laugh, not looking at Harry._

_“Do what?” Harry asked again, this time a bit more forcefully._

_“Look…don’t take this the wrong way or anything, I mean I know me and Smythe aren’t exactly bosom buddies or anything but I don’t want to cause shit or anything…” Hunter hedged, chancing a glance in Harry’s direction._

_Harry sent him a look, causing Hunter to sigh, “It’s just that….well, you know how Dalton is….some of the guys-- they well, they talk. I don’t know how much you know about Sebastian’s past….I’m assuming quite a bit, since you’re married and what not. I just think it’s admirable the amount of trust you have in him, that’s all”_

_Harry swallowed, deciding he definitely did not like the direction this conversation was heading in. “Yeah well, we’re married like you say. Trust is a part of that” he said sounding much more confident in his statement then he actually was._

_“Yeah, that’s what I mean. I don’t know if I could do that. Give him that kind of leeway with well, everything that’s happened and what not. But, like I said, you’re the one married to him, you no doubt know him the best” Hunter stated, turning and giving Harry a smile before adding, “plus, it’s only a run right? It’s not like he’s missing all the time or anything.”_

_Harry was sure that last bit was meant to reassure him….somehow all it did was make the pit in his stomach sink lower. “Right” he agreed faintly._

Harry sighed, pushing his hand through his sweaty locks and giving his head a shake. He was being ridiculous and insecure again….damn Hunter and his stupid words. No, like he had told Hunter being married to someone implied a level of trust in that person; of course, he and Sebastian hadn’t exactly gotten married the usual way-- not exactly having a loving relationship beforehand….but they were working on that now. And if he wanted to eventually achieve that, he needed to be able to trust Sebastian.

He was busy…that was it.

Harry gave his bangs one more pointless hand sweep back, before squaring his shoulders and pushing the dorm room door open, only to come to a halt at the sight of Sebastian standing there, apparently waiting for him.

“I should murder you for going behind my back” Sebastian stated giving him a hard look. Harry swallowed nervously trying to figure out what exactly Sebastian was talking about as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. He couldn’t think of anything….ok, no not exactly true; there were several things that Sebastian could be referring to (Draco’s letter, the MIT scholarship, Harry’s increasing collection of sketches—increasing in the number that were of Sebastian, that is). His eyes darted to Sebastian’s trying to gauge his mood and guess which, if any of the above subjects Sebastian was referring to.

Just as he was starting to get really unnerved by Sebastian’s unreadable, flat expression the brunette’s face cracked revealing a huge blinding smile. Harry was so thrown by the sudden change, that he didn’t even move out of the way when Sebastian came stalking towards him, his expression suddenly far more predatory, all while waving a rather formal looking letter at him. Harry just made out the MIT insignia before Sebastian had his hand firmly planted against Harry’s ass, pulling the confused Brit towards him.  

“But first, I think I’m going to thank you by fucking you into the mattress”

All of Hunter’s previous words flew out of Harry’s head as he half stumbled have fell into Sebastian’s hard chest. They so were not what was important right now.

No, right now, he was much more preoccupied with Sebastian’s.

\--0--

Sebastian stepped out of the arrival’s gate in Heathrow airport, sighing in relief at being able to stretch his long legs after their extremely lengthy flight. Feeling Harry beside him, he didn’t pause in his march towards the exit, once again glad that they had packed light—then again they both had temporary (or not so temporary, in Harry’s case) bases in London, in which clothes and other such essentials had been left. The cool, foggy air of London’s early morning was a much warmer welcome then the snow flurries they had left behind just twelve hours ago; just another point in England’s favor.

Sebastian gave a half wave to hail a cab, not bothering to look for his mother or her chauffer knowing from past experiences that she wouldn’t have sent anyone or come herself…in all honesty she had probably forgotten completely that her son and his husband were coming to stay with her for a few days over spring break. That fact had long since ceased bothering Sebastian, as she had made it more than evident over the years with her words and her actions how very little she thought of her son. He was just praying that her abrasive attitude would not be directed at Harry—though he wasn’t exactly optimistic on this hope (which was why he had taken the time to warn Harry about his mother and her generally all out rudeness to all who weren’t in her immediate social circle).

In all truth, he would have much preferred that he and Harry not stay with the ice queen but unfortunately, a series of bizarre circumstances had made it necessary. Harry’s house—Grimmauld place (a rather odd and creepy sounding name, if you asked Sebastian) had been decided against because Harry currently had two of his friends renting it.

Apparently, the two men that he and Harry had first met on their arrival over here during Christmas—Neville….and George, was it?—had been left homeless after their landlord was arrested for one nefarious thing or another and the bank had foreclosed on his properties…essentially evicting all the current tenants. Harry of course had heard and offered his friends the use of his own property…an offer they refused, until he reluctantly agreed to charge them rent. Knowing Harry—or at least the amount that Sebastian had been allowed to know, Sebastian would bet his MIT admission that the wizard would find some way to return the money to them without them being any wiser. They, of course could have still stayed at Grimmauld place, but Harry didn’t want things to be crowded or to make the others feel like they had to agree to let them stay there just because he owned it and so he hadn’t asked.

Then, there was Sebastian’s own flat that his parents had more or less bought him in London…but as luck would have it, a pipe in the floor above had burst and his flat was currently uninhabitable and undergoing renovations—of course with the full and continuous apologies of the building manager. Not that those apologies did much to rectify the situation considering they still could not stay there for the week they were in London.

Since they were basically in London to visit his mother (something he really only considered doing because he thought that he should introduce Harry at some point; especially since the wizard had already met his father) it seemed a bit impractical to stay at a hotel for the duration of the visit. Of course, Sebastian was not a complete fool and they would be staying at a hotel for the second half of their stay—even if his mother was on her best behavior Sebastian really had no desire to push his luck.

Sebastian was actually rather surprised that his mother had agreed to host them at her place in the first place, though he was pretty sure that the only reason that his mother had agreed was because she knew that his father had met and housed Harry already-- and anything that his father might have obtained or done, she of course had to be sure that she could do and obtain as well.

Harry attempted once or twice to engage him in conversation on the drive across town towards the dreaded town house but quickly gave up sensing his current mood. Sebastian gave a mental sigh of relief when the green eyed male fell silent and made a quick promise to himself that he would make up how he was currently acting and treating his bonded after they had settled in and gotten the dreaded initial first meet over with. He couldn’t help his attitude…he really couldn’t. If his relationship was strained and uncomfortable with his father, it was five times worse with his mother….at least his father sort of cared about him, well how he reflected on the Smythe name he should say. His mother didn’t even care enough about him to worry about how his actions reflected on the family or herself—she had fully embraced the mantra of ‘out of sight, out of mind’ when it came to him. Really, the only thing that Sebastian could figure out that his mother did care about, was getting one up on his father….well that, and spending as much money as she possibly could.

Sebastian was brought out of his bitter thoughts by the sound of a choked laugh from his companion. He looked over to where Harry was seated to see a look of amused disbelief on the wizard’s sharp features as the green eyed man looked out the window of the now stopped taxi at the Atinea* brick apartment block.

“Is there any property you Smythe’s own that does not cost more than most people hope to make in a life time?” Harry asked, not looking away from the elegant brick building in front of him. He could not help but note that not only did the building have the look of those that cost their owners more than the winnings that a lottery ticket could afford, but that the place was located on prime real estate—just a stone’s throw from Hyde park itself.

Sebastian felt his lips quirk up in an involuntary smile at his husband’s blunt words—trust Harry not to worry about being offensive and just say what he wanted—“Yes actually, I believe father has an apartment in Dublin that costs only half a person’s life time wage” he said wryly.

Harry snorted at the comment before getting out of the taxi and handing the driver several pounds, pausing on the wide, clean sidewalk in front of the building to wait for Sebastian to join him—which the brunette quickly did, though while grouching over the fact that Harry had not waited for him to pay for their ride over. Harry ignored him(something the raven hair was rather good at) in favor of taking in his surroundings.

“My mother got rather well taken care of in the divorce…she can definitely afford the place” Sebastian added as he led the way inside the marble decked out lobby, heading straight for the stiff looking concierge.

“Walter….how have you been? Did my mother let you know that Harry and I would be staying with her for the next few days?” Sebastian greeted the vaguely familiar man—he was on friendly enough terms with the aging man but even when he had staying in London with his ‘mother,’ he had spent more time at his own place then at hers…so it was really only a passing familiarity the two of them shared.

Sebastian felt his stomach drop as he caught the hastily hidden look of surprise that flitted across Walter’s wizened face, “Mister Sebastian! It is good to see you….I-I am afraid that Mrs. Smythe never mentioned your arrival….” He paused looking as though he wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how to say it.

Sebastian gave an almost imperceptible sigh—at what; the man’s hesitance or the fact that it did indeed appear that his mother had forgotten about his arrival, he wasn’t sure-- motioning with his hand for the man to continue.

“…are-are you sure Mister Sebastian that it was this week you were suppose to come?” Walter asked fiddling with the visitor sign in sheet in front of him.

“Yes” Sebastian stated his eyes narrowing slightly in annoyance, “this is the only week that we have off from school….it is spring break back in the States after all…”

“Ah….of course, of course…..it’s just that, well…I do believe that Mrs. Smythe may have gotten the dates confused, what with London’s break and the state’s break being different….she, well I hate to say, but she left only a couple of hours ago to catch her cruise. I believe that she plans on being gone to the Caribbean for the next two weeks or so….”

Sebastian had to fight down his impulse to blush in embarrassment at this news. Sure, he knew just how unimportant he was to his mother and her life…but he had hoped to hide this fact—at least a little—from Harry for as long as he could; looked like that wasn’t going to be hidden very long after all. Careful to keep his horrid emotional response hidden from both Walter and Harry, who was looking rather uncomfortable standing off to the side, Sebastian cleared his throat.

“I see…is it possible to let us up regardless? As you said I am sure that she simply got confused over the date of our visit”—not likely, as Sebastian had not only called and left a message reminding her but had also sent several text messages.

Walter shifted looking even more uncomfortable at Sebastian’s request….as though knowing that he really wasn’t suppose to, but not wanting to upset or cause more embarrassment then he already had to the Smythe heir.

“I’m not sure….” He hedged.

“Please, Walter” Sebastian asked his tone liquid honey, “I’m sure you can confirm with just a quick call to my mother….”

“Yes, well I suppose it couldn’t hurt…” Walter acquiesced, albeit a tad reluctantly.

Sebastian sent him a winning smile and quickly took the extra set of keys that the concierge handed him, before muttering a clipped, “come on” to Harry.

The Brit did as asked, though Sebastian could see by the half wary—half questioning glances his husband was sending him, that he would be faced with all sorts of uncomfortable questions once they were alone.

He sighed to himself as they stepped into the glass paneled elevator broodingly. This was not how he had wanted to start their visit here…not at all. Gritting his teeth to stop himself from taking out his irritation and embarrassment on Harry, Sebastian tried to come up with a plausible white lie that would pacify Harry about his mother’s absence. He somehow knew that Harry wouldn’t fall for the ‘mixed up date’ excuse that Walter had used downstairs.

Oh yes, this was going to be a fun holiday indeed.

\--oo—

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Harry was only marginally mollified to see that Sebastian startled just as badly as he did at the cold, angry voice that interrupted the-- until now, largely silent game of wizarding chess, that Harry had decided to show Sebastian. It had been the only thing that he could think of doing that might bring his husband out of the foul mood he had been in ever since they landed in London.

Harry for his part, knew that the sharp comments and broodiness really had very little to do with him, and a whole lot more to do with Sebastian’s relationship with his mother—but it was still him taking the brunt of the brunette’s ill humors. He had, for once decided to put off his own curiosity regarding Mrs. Smythe’s rather conspicuous absence, knowing that her obvious lack of regard for Sebastian was a source of embarrassment for the teen—and that the way that Sebastian reacted to being embarrassed, was by becoming more of an ass to those around him.

It had seemed like it was the right thing to do, judging by the relieved light in Sebastian’s eye when Harry had brought out his old chess set and suggested a game, placing far more levity and joy on showing Sebastian the animated set then either actually felt.

But it had worked in a way—Sebastian’s tense posture had gradually relaxed, and his words became more sarcastic then out right cruel…well, right up until three seconds ago that is. Harry watched as Sebastian’s posture once again became ramrod straight at the sight of a rather pissed off looking woman standing just inside of the well light entryway.

It didn’t take a genius to guess that said woman was in fact Kathleen Smythe; not only because of she was here in the flat, but also because of the obvious physical resemblance between her and Sebastian. There was no denying that like her son, Kathleen was an attractive woman—though her beauty was slightly marred by the disdainful sneer on her face.

If Harry hadn’t known Sebastian as well as he did, he would have missed the slightly red tinge to his cheeks—showing that the teen was embarrassed by his mother’s words. “Greetings to you to mother…as I called to remind you earlier we--- that is Harry and I, are here for the spring break. You agreed to let us stay with you so that you could get to know my bonded” Sebastian replied in a droll voice though it didn’t quite disguise the nervous undertone to his words.

“I see” was the only reply they got before Kathleen moved further into the entrance, her high black heels clacking nosily on the mosaic tiled floor, as she moved to take off an expensive looking wool over coat.

Sebastian’s eyebrows scrunched slightly in displeasure before his expression smoothed again and he asked another question, “Walter had said that you were leaving for the Caribbean?….”

A scowl that put Snape’s to shame pulled down Kathleen’s primly made-up face, “There was apparently some mistake with booking and I was pushed back to a departure next week. I am of half a mind to just cancel the whole thing and book on another line, if this is the competence this company shows to their customers.”

Sebastian wisely did not say anything to this, instead shooting a quick glance over at his unusually silent partner seeing the wizard staring at his mother with an odd expression on his face—one that almost looked reminiscent. In a way it was…Harry was looking at Mrs. Smythe, and yet couldn’t help but flash back to Narcissa Malfoy—their mannerisms so familiar to each other. He had to forcefully suppress the shudder that wanted to travel down his spine at the thought of Draco’s family. While, there was no doubt that Mrs. Malfoy loved Draco, the woman had been a formidable opponent and later ally, during the war—though it would appear that the blond pureblood had one thing over the pinched faced brunette standing in front of Harry…she at least, cared for her son.

“You won’t be staying long, will you?” Kathleen asked, though it really was more of a command then a question.

Harry wanted to go over and give her carefully curled and pinned hair a good yank for the way that her words made Sebastian physically and emotionally draw into himself. Even more so, when he saw the barely perceptible triumph in the woman’s slate eyes—as though this was the very reason she had said them.

“No, of course not mother. We wouldn’t want to impose…we are only planning on stay a few days” Sebastian replied politely, his fist clenched at his side.

There was a long strained silence following, one, where Kathleen did not attempt to deny her son’s words. Having had enough, Harry decided that he might as well step in and introduce himself seeing as he couldn’t possibly make the silence anymore awkward then it already was.

“Mrs. Smythe….nice to meet you, I’m Sebastian’s bonded, Harry” the green eyed wizard stepped forward offering his hand as customary, a strained smile on his lips.

Kathleen turned her icy gaze to him, giving him a blatant once over-- her sneer becoming even more prominent, before overtly turning away from him without further acknowledgement. Harry blinked in surprise at the obvious hostility being sent his way. While he had gathered that Sebastian did not get on with his mother, and had further guessed that she held no love for her son, he was still slightly surprised by the blatant snub—even the purebloods’ who had tried to kill him on several occasions, still put forth at least a mockery of civility while in public.

“Er…right” Harry muttered, letting his hand fall and taking a step back from the woman, not quite sure what he was suppose to do with that greeting.

Completely ignoring the teen that she had just slighted, Kathleen turned once more to her son, “Do keep out of the way, Sebastian. I have neither the time nor patience for your usual immaturity” before succulently moving to climb up the first floor stairs, towards the suites above.

Sebastian didn’t answer, just stared with barely contained anger at her departing back. Harry once again decided to try and intervene before things got out of hand; and by the look on Sebastian’s face, it wasn’t that far off of a possibility.

“Sebastian….why don’t we head out for a bit? It’s lovely out, why don’t you show me around Hyde park….I may have lived here, but I didn’t get much time to explore the city…”

Sebastian dragged his eyes away from where is mother had just disappeared to, to look over at Harry his eyes narrowing slightly, “go ahead….I’m really not in the mood” he said shortly.

Sighing silently, Harry reminded himself to be patient and understanding with his husband, “Please Sebastian?” he cajoled, “you know my propensity for trouble…..please come with?”

At first Harry thought that Sebastian was going to refuse again, but then he saw the subtle twitch of Sebastian’s mouth and knew that he had won. “Fine, go get our coats then…” Sebastian relented, his tone put out, but Harry could tell it was more for effect then actually being unhappy with the suggestion.

Harry sent him a brilliant smile and started to hum one of the show tunes that annoyed the hell out of Sebastian, knowing that it would distract him from what had just taken place; he was of course, correct.

“Would you shut up? Honestly, you are one of the most irritating people that I have ever had the displeasure of knowing”

Harry just sent him a smirk and tossed his coat at him, causing Sebastian to further curse him.

Both boys missed the startled and annoyed expression that, one Kathleen Smythe was wearing as she watched the scene unfold below her. Nor did they see the unmasked jealously that shone in her cold grey eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title and song: Ice Queen, by Within Temptation
> 
> *a type of brick—salmon colored brick popular in many of the newer buildings found within London.


	15. Every Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers! So first off, sorry for the horrendously long wait, I have no excuses. Secondly, thank you so much for reassuring me that this story does not totally suck with your kind reviews, every one of them was like a balm to my self doubting writers soul ;) 
> 
> I feel obliged to warn you that this and the next 1-2 chapters will be a tad angsty and rife with boys being stupid, but once again there will be a happy ending in store. I have the story completely planned out as of now and not including this chapter there are four to come. Please don't hate Harry after reading this chapter, as not all is as it seems. 
> 
> Anyhow...without further adu...on with the story! (oh and please continue your awesomness and drop me a review!)

 

**\------------------oo------------------------------**

_So where did you sleep the night before?_

_I doubt that your phone was dying_

_I’m supposed to believe that is what you wore_

_Said you were alone, I don’t buy it_

_\------------------------00----------------------------_

**_April--May continued_ **

The last few days had been trying to say the least; while Sebastian had known that coming to England over the break, and more importantly lodging with his mother would not be rainbows and sunshine, he had hoped that it would not be pure hell either. Well, no that is not exactly right—pure hell would have been filled with hot, red anger—perhaps a yelling match or two…no, staying with his mother was akin to camping out in the middle of the arctic having forgotten to put on clothes that morning. Yes, frigid would be a good word to describe it. Frigid and painful.

It didn’t help matters that Harry and his mother had seemed to form an immediate and mutual loathing to one another—not that he could exactly lay the blame at Harry’s feet, after all, it was his mother who had snubbed the wizard to start with and who had made absolutely no effort to get to know or even acknowledge the teen since (despite the fact that she had been the one that had wanted to ‘get to know Sebastian’s bonded’ in the first place. Sebastian could only guess that actually getting to know another person linked to her son had sounded better in theory—something that she had decided to do when she had heard that Harry had met and liked her husband. Apparently such thoughts and wants were not strong enough for her to actually put in any effort to actually doing so).

Harry, for his part had chosen to dish back his mother’s cold, aloofness—or at least had taken to avoiding Kathleen at all costs (it actually reminded Sebastian a bit of the wizard’s reaction to his own previous behavior towards Harry. It would seem that Harry’s method of coping with hostility was to take it in and serve it right back). And after three days of trying (and largely failing) at acting as an intermediary between the two chunks of ice, Sebastian had, had enough.

Hence the reason he was currently heading for the ‘sitting room’ (a name his mother insisted on calling the room to the side of the entrance-way that housed a baby grand, several uncomfortable antique settee’s and a drawing easel, that in all of Sebastian’s time spent with—or near his mother he had never once seen used) to have a ‘word’ with Kathleen. Not that he was overly optimistic on it changing anything, but at least then he could say that he had tried. He had already spoken with Harry, to which the wizard had replied “I can’t exactly have a warm and friendly conversation with her if she treats me like I am not there, Bas….I will try, but I can’t work miracles.”

Of course Sebastian had to admit to the sense in Harry’s words—so really, everything came down to the next conversation. The only reassuring thing was that if the conversation went horribly and blew up in his face, they had only been planning on staying with Kathleen for another two days anyway.

Sebastian steeled himself, reminding himself once again of this fact before he walked in to the sitting room in what he hoped was a purposeful and confidant way—not that it made any difference in the end since Kathleen didn’t even look up from her fashion magazine.

“Mother, I would like to speak with you” Sebastian soldiered ahead despite the lack of greeting or acknowledgement. Still his mother didn’t move to look at him, letting the silence drag out excruciatingly long. Sebastian was not really sure what he should do next; should he continue to speak to her and assume that she was actually listening and just being petty about showing that fact, or should he turn around and leave—giving it up as a lost cause from the very start? Just as he was about to do the later, his mother looked up—sneer on her face.

“Oh?”

While it wasn’t exactly an effusive invitation to begin his conversation, it was better than nothing so Sebastian decided to take it for what it was and continue on. “Yes, I-I need to speak with you on your behavior towards Harry…” Sebastian stated feeling more and more the fool at the look on his mothers face.

Again silence greeted him, but having started he figured that he might as well continue—not like doing so could hurt his objective anymore than it already had at this point. “I thought you had wanted to get to know him….at least that was what you told me. Yet, from the moment you found us here you have been hostile and rude towards him….”

He was going to continue on, but found himself stunned into momentary speechlessness when he was interrupted by his mother snorting---snorting of all things! True, it was a rather soft, dainty sounding snort, but a snort all the same! He gaped at the woman, who in turn gave him a rather condescending, pitying look.

“I never thought I would see the day…” she stated turning back to her magazine and flipping to the next page with a long manicured nail.

Even knowing that he was doing exactly what his mother wanted him to do and falling for her leading statement, Sebastian couldn’t help but ask, “what day?”

Kathleen looked back up at him with a twisted, snide smirk adorning her perfectly glossed lips, “why the day that you let yourself be collared and leashed of course. Who knew you could be so easily played a fool?”

Sebastian knew that she bating him, he knew that it was probably in his best interests to turn around and walk away from her and this conversation, to go back upstairs to find out if Harry had finished his shower and for the two of them to go out and do something—something far away from the likes of Kathleen Smythe, but as it has been well established, Sebastian rarely did what was good and healthy for him. “What are you talking about?” he hissed back, his hackles rising at her connotated words.

The calm, smug expression on his mother’s face didn’t change an iota when faced with her son’s anger. Raising a penciled eyebrow she continued, “I would think it obvious….do you really think that someone like Harry would honestly want someone like you?”

Sebastian tried to keep his face blank and emotionless—not wanting to give his mother the pleasure of seeing just how much her words stung, “like me?” he asked, his voice to his relief sounded deceptively calm and uncaring.

“Well really Sebastian, I thought you were smarter than this…..your ‘bonded’—or so I have been told; is a Lord, war hero, wealthy to the extreme and apparently famous, what do you have to offer him? It’s not like you can give him a family or security. Your reputation isn’t exactly clean Sebastian. People like Harry do not stay with people like….well, you. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh but it is just reality. Something that it seems like you have forgotten” Kathleen stated, really not sounding sorry in the least.  

And really, if Sebastian didn’t want to claw her eyes out at the moment, he would have applauded his mother in her stellar skill of finding and exploiting other’s weaknesses—for hadn’t this been something that deep down he had been worried about from the start? It wasn’t as though his mother’s words—as cold and cruel as they were---didn’t make sense, because in the end what did he have to offer Harry?

Was the Brit doing as his mother implied and simply biding his time until he could leave? Sebastian would have said ‘yes, without a doubt’ at the start of their relationship—but now….

But again, was his mother right? Was he being naïve and forgetting just how the world worked? It was never something Sebastian had thought himself to be—naïve, that is. He had always been the cynic, the doubter….always suspicious of other’s and their words and intentions, but somehow…. somewhere in the last few months with Harry, he had started to lose that trait. He had started to believe, to hope…..to trust.

Was that trust misplaced?

No, no, it wasn’t---he would not allow his mother to poison the one good thing he had going for him right now. He would trust Harry, trust this relationship. He would.

“You’re wrong” Sebastian denied.

His mother had already turned back to her magazine, officially ending the conversation. So, taking it for the failure of communication that it was, Sebastian turned to leave, but not before he heard his mother’s parting,

“We’ll see.”

\--o--

Harry looked up in surprise at the sound of something rapping against the large south facing window which occupied the majority of one wall in the guest bedroom that he had been ‘given’ by Kathleen. Of course the spiteful shrew had purposefully given him separate rooms from the ones that Sebastian normally occupied when staying here—as though daring Harry, or better yet her son to say something about it. Neither of them had. As much as Harry was itching to pick a fight with the woman, he knew better—or at least he knew that it would not actually resolve anything and so resisted his urge. He thought that his therapist should be very proud of his new restraint, of course if he did end up repressing his urge to vent to the point that he exploded on the woman, it would kind of make all of his efforts worthless…but details.

Moving over to the window and unlatching it (it was England thank goddess, and England meant many of the homes—even the snobby, posh ones, had windows that one could open and close; not like those immovable ones that American’s seemed to so favor) he wasn’t as surprised as one might think he ought to be, at the sight of a large eagle owl there. Over the past week (only one more day of torture at the hands of Mrs. Smythe!) Harry had taken to escaping from the cloying tension on occasion through the readily available excuse of going to visit his friends and family.

Sebastian had joined him on occasion, but more often than not he let Harry go off on his own—stating that while he liked Harry’s friends well enough, that it was still rather awkward with him being there what with them having all known each other for more than a decade and him a mere minute.

While this disappointed Harry slightly (who secretly had a completely blissful and unrealistic day dream of his old friends and family and his new family—aka Sebastian—instantly connecting and developing life long, unbreakable bonds of mutual friendship) he could understand his bonded’s point. He was initially worried that Sebastian would resent him for the time he spent with the rest of his friends, but Sebastian had assured him that he did not mind, stating that he had plenty of his own contacts and things he could do while Harry was out. Even so, Harry had been careful to spread his time equally between his old and new family (perhaps a tad more with Sebastian then the twins and others).

Quickly taking the formal looking letter from the bird, careful to dodge the ill humored swipe said deliverer made at his arm when he did so, Harry was for once relieved that Sebastian had decided not to accompany him to every outing…or once it was a good thing. Especially since the letter was from a certain blond….a certain blond that Harry had still not found the time (or will) to tell his husband he was in regular contact with.

He, of course had known that he would have to meet up with Draco at some point on their visit here—well, had to was perhaps not the right way of stating it. He of course wanted to meet up with his friend…he just didn’t want to have to deal with doing so without Sebastian knowing he was doing so.

Really, he was starting to think that he should just come out and tell Sebastian about his and Draco’s continued correspondence, it really would be a heck of a lot easier then all this subterfuge…but hey, he couldn’t be a Gryffindor all the time and for some reason he just couldn’t seem to bring himself to do so. He tried to convince himself that it was because he just was not in the mood to deal with Sebastian’s hissy fit on top of trying not to kill the brunette’s mother, but the knawing unease in his stomach was making such claims hard for him to believe. Not that he wasn’t going to give his denial a solid effort; plus what was the harm in meeting up with a friend for a few hours?—it wasn’t as though he was doing anything wrong exactly, and it wasn’t as if his husband had to know _everything_ Harry did every second of the day…. No, there would be time to tell his husband about it later…

Or at least that was what he told himself—even if he didn’t really believe it to be true.

\--0---

Sebastian blinked several times and even gave his head a shake; sure that he was mistaken in what he was seeing. But no, when he looked back up, towards the back of the busy, crowded pub he saw the exact same image presented to him. Harry, his husband—the same husband who had told him that he was going out to meet up with a friend that Sebastian had never met and did not know, leaning in what looked like a _very_ intimate way towards a blond man—who Sebastian most definitely _did_ know.

He could not believe it, and yet, somehow he was not surprised at all. His mother’s words—hell, even Hunter’s and Kurt’s insinuations and snide comments came flooding back to him in rush. A noisy torrent of implication and innuendos.

“Why would someone like _him_ choose someone like _you_?”

Why indeed?

For as much as Sebastian had told himself, reassured himself that his mother’s words were poisonous lies, lies said to simply make him insecure and doubt himself—much like he believed she actually doubted herself, it would seem that some small part of him had believed them. It was after all the reason—as much as he would like to deny it—that he had followed Harry without the raven hair’s knowledge.

No, that was not completely true; while it was part of the reason that he had followed Harry it wasn’t the only one. The other reason being that he had known, sensed, that there was something off about what his husband had told him. Some sort of unease, and anxiety that had clung to the wizard like a noxious cloud that Sebastian had been unable to ignore. He closed his eyes and briefly let his mind travel back to the memory of earlier that afternoon….

_Sebastian looked up at the sound of someone entering the library, smiling when he saw it was Harry. Then again he wasn’t exactly surprised that it was Harry and not Kathleen, as his mother had taken to completely ignoring him after their lovely ‘conversation.’_

_“Hey stranger” he greeted, quirking an eyebrow in question when he noticed how the green eyed teen seemed to hesitate in coming fully into the room—something that was definitely not the norm for the generally confidant wizard._

_“Hey” Harry replied sending him a smile back, though it seemed a tad strained and uneasy._

_“Are you going to come in or just stand there collecting dust?” Sebastian asked when Harry still did not make a move towards him._

_“Er…” Harry sent him a sheepish look, “no actually. I just wanted to let you know that I’m heading out for a bit to meet up with a friend”_

_While this was not entirely unusual—in fact it had become a rather common occurrence during their week here; something that Sebastian had tried to support despite how secretly jealous it made him to think of Harry spending time with people other than himself (and yes he realized just how obsessive and unhealthy said jealousy was, hence the reason he had not actually acted on it)—it was unusual in the way that Harry seemed unable to completely meet his eyes._

_Sebastian mentally shook his head and scolded himself for his paranoia—he was doing the thing that he had promised himself he would not do: letting his mother’s words get to him—which was stupid, Harry wasn’t actively hiding anything from him. He wasn’t._

_“Oh? Who are you meeting up with?” Sebastian asked doing his best to keep his tone neutral and casual. Just because he was determined to ignore his mother’s words did not mean that he was able to disregard them completely…plus Harry would probably tell him he was meeting up with George or Neville or someone and prove such worries ridiculous. Except that he didn’t._

_No, instead he looked even more nervous, though he did do an admirable job of wiping said nerves off his face after a second or too—making Sebastian wonder if he had actually saw them there or simply imagined them—and replied, “Oh, just an old school friend. You’ve never met”_

_Instantly Sebastian felt a red warning bell go off in his head, though he kept his outward expression and posture unchanged. “Okay, when should I expect you back?” –and was it just him or did Harry looked relieved at his easy acceptance?_

_“Um….probably a few hours or so, before dinner anyhow” Harry said with a shrug._

_“Ok, have a good time, see you when I see you” Sebastian replied and made an obvious action of returning to the book he had been reading, listening with half an ear as Harry’s footsteps moved away from the room._

_He shouldn’t….he really shouldn’t._

_He shouldn’t follow Harry and see just who it was he was meeting up with. He shouldn’t let his mother’s words make him paranoid and suspicious. He really shouldn’t._

_But really, what would it hurt to put his fears to rest? Who would it inconvenience, outside himself?—no one that’s who. And anyway, if he didn’t… if he stayed here like a good little boy, reading his book, he would just sit and stew….worry until it was built to a level way out of proportion. So really, following Harry this one time was actually a good, healthy thing._

_It would set his worries to rest and let him get back to the nice, healthy relationship that he had just begun to explore with his husband. Mind made up, Sebastian set his book aside and quickly exited the library._

Sebastian carefully moved through the thick crowd, avoiding the main floor and eye-line of either of the booth’s occupants—not that they would have noticed him even if he hadn’t done so; what with how preoccupied they looked, all snuggled up in their own little world. He moved closer and to the side, sliding into the booth just behind the one that they were currently occupying—determined to hear just what it was that had them so oblivious to everything surrounding them.

Part of his mind was still trying to convince him that there was some innocent, easy explanation to why Harry had lied to his face and come to meet an ex-lover in secret. Because surely… surely not everything that he believed he and Harry had, everything between them that he was slowly but surely starting to trust was a lie….

There had to be a reason—not that he could actually think of anything that would set this situation right of course, but he had to at least hear what they were saying before he passed and sealed judgment on the green eyed man.

And he did hear….oh how he wished he hadn’t, but he did.

Those words out of Harry’s mouth that were like sharp blades to his very heart…no, to his soul. One sentence was all it took; all it took to shatter what small belief in love and relationships Sebastian had managed to gain through his partnership with Harry.

He felt like his lungs were closing in on themselves, unable to get him the air he so desperately needed to allow his brain to make sense of what he heard. Because he knew that he had heard correctly.

“ _Draco, you know that I will always love you_ ….”

They had been right. Damn them to hell; they had been right….He had been such a fool for believing that Harry could actually truly want him. To believe that the wizard wasn’t like everyone else in the world, out to serve his own selfish interests.

What a fool.

‘Well, no more’ Sebastian thought angrily as he ripped himself from the booth and pushed his way through the crowd and towards the exit. No more.

He had been blind, naïve and stupid--Lulled into a false sense of security and contentment these past few months….that ended now. The new, nice, trusting Sebastian ended here and now.

It was time to return to his roots. It was time for him to show his selfish husband that two could play that game.

He was nobody’s fool and it was time to prove that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song artist and song: My Darkest Days; Every lie


	16. Misunderstandings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! sorry for the long wait I have been working on a collaberation with Cherryteapot on another glee/harry potter crossover and it has been getting most of my attention this past little bit. That being said I finally finished another chapter for all you lovely and patient people ;)
> 
> It is really just more of the fallout from the last chapter. more detail on what went down and what comes next.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who took the time to reveiw-you guys are the best

 

**\--------------------------oo----------------------------------------**

_There must be some misunderstanding_

_There must be some kind of mistake_

_I waited in the rain for hours_

_And you were late_

_\------------------------------00---------------------------------------------------_

**_April--May_ **

Harry ducked his head, hiding his face—more out of habit than anything else really (dodging the press was a habit one never quite forsook)-- as he entered the dingy little pub. He mentally snickered to himself just imaging Draco’s face when he saw the place…really he shouldn’t get such delight out of rankling his snooty friend but….well some old habits die hard.

He resolutely pushed the niggling of guilty doubt he had over this meeting back behind his occlumency enabled wall, telling himself—not for the first time—that he hadn’t done anything wrong. Not that he truly believed it for a second, mind you….it _was_ rather hard convincing himself that the lie he had just served Sebastian was the same thing as omitting certain facts to the brunette. He knew that he should have told Sebastian the truth from the get go-- that he was still friends with Draco and talked to him fairly regularly. It really would have been much easier, both action and conscience wise to have been frank from the start…to have just dealt with initial jealousy and possessiveness from his bonded early on….but you know what they say about hind sight and all.

He really hadn’t thought omitting a few facts here and there was necessarily a bad thing, after all he hadn’t done it out of malice or even with any intent of getting one over on his husband….no, up until the moment that he had found himself telling Sebastian a deliberate lie directly to his face ( _just an old school friend. You’ve never met_ ), he really hadn’t seen his actions or behavior in such a negative light.

Well, there was no point on continuing to stew about it now, plus it wasn’t too late….he could still fix this. He would meet with Draco, hear him out on whatever it was his friend needed to speak about (most likely more doubts about Astoria and perhaps some moral support before he faced off with his bastard of a father), then he would go home and tell Sebastian the truth. Tell him everything, explain it to him…after all he really hadn’t done anything wrong outside of keeping a few facts from the warbler. Oh, he knew that Sebastian would be furious initially, likely ignore him for a bit until he had worked his temper out and decided that he had punished Harry enough to forgive him his lie.

It might take a few days, but Harry was sure that by the time they returned to Ohio things would be okay between the two of them again---little did he know just how wrong his assumption would turn out to be.

Decision made, Harry turned his attention back to the interior of the crowded pub allowing his war trained observation to aid him in picking his friend’s blond head out of the crowd. He didn’t even bother to try and stop the smirk from forming on his face as he saw the utter look of disgust on Draco’s face. Weaving his way across the room he came up behind Draco and laid his hand on the blond’s shoulder causing Draco to jump in startlement.

“Merlin Harry! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Draco snarked when his heart had restarted.

Harry ignored his tone drawing him into a loose hug, before gesturing over to the side of the room that was lined with cheap, ratty looking booths, “Why don’t you grab us a seat and I’ll grab drinks? What do you want?”

“I doubt they have anything that I actually want to drink in this hovel, just grab me whatever you are getting” Draco replied shooting the bar counter and overweight bartender a hateful look—though Harry could tell that there was no true malice behind his friends words, they were more for show then anything.

“Sure, I’ll be over in a sec” Harry agreed amicably and after he had grabbed two pints of some sort of cheap ale moved to sit down across from Draco, “So how have you been? What was it that you needed to talk to me about?...has it got to do with your father and the wedding?”

Harry got a slight sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched Draco’s expression go from haughty disdain, to one of extreme unease and discomfort—somehow he knew that whatever it was Draco wanted to speak to him about, it would not be a comfortable subject…for either of them.

Draco shifted in his seat, keeping his eyes on the drink before him nervously tracing lines in the condensation on the glass acting as though he hadn’t heard any of Harry’s just asked questions.

“Draco?....” Harry asked again, not bothering to hide the concern that was steadily creeping into his tone. He couldn’t help but wonder what was so wrong that it threw even Draco off balance…hell, he hadn’t seen the blond so nervous or out of sorts since that horrid confrontation in the bathroom during sixth year.

Draco let out a gusty sigh (another sign that there was something seriously wrong with his friend—Malfoy’s didn’t do things as plebian as sighing after all) dragging his long pale fingers through his hair, before looking up, his face fixed in a rather out of character look of determination. “I-I need to tell you something….something that I should have probably told you a long time ago….”

Glad to finally be getting to the meat of the problem, Harry was careful to hold Draco’s skittering eye contact, with—what he hoped was—an encouraging expression on his face.

“I…look, I know this is a little late and that it probably won’t change anything regardless…but I need to get it out. I’m tired of losing things because I was too much of a coward to take a risk, well…..I think that if I bow out again that I will regret it…I-I can’t live wondering about what ifs…” Draco rambled getting more and more flustered as he went on, his normally pale cheeks pinking with either conviction or embarrassment.

“Hey, Drake just breathe okay? I’m not going anywhere… tell me when you’re ready, okay?” Harry tried to reassure his friend, placing what he hoped was a comforting hand on Draco’s—what had to be painful-- clenched hands.

Draco drew in a shuddery breath and shot Harry a weak smile, seeming to take courage from Harry’s hand on his, “I-I….I still love you Harry” he let out in a whoosh, his entire posture relaxing in relief at having it out in the open-- in direct contrast from the teen across from him, whose posture had gone painfully still and rigid.

“I-I, what do you mean?” Harry managed to choke out, praying that he would wake up and that this wasn’t what he thought it was. He adored Draco…loved him in fact, but as a friend. Nothing more.

They had been a good couple while it lasted, but in his mind they had worked because of the circumstances around them—the desperate need they had at the time to seek comfort from one another while they still could. They had far too much history….most of it bad, and even the good tainted with memories of war and death for them to be good for one another now. They might work for a bit, until the press and pressure of who they were and their polar personalities would grow to out shadow the passion that had made their relationship workable to begin with.

Harry knew that a few months ago he might have considered getting back with Draco, but now….after months with his therapist, after months away from England and his fans and critics; he knew that they were far better off as friends. He was fairly certain that deep down Draco knew this too—that he was just latching onto their friendship and remembered war induced passion and deluding himself that he was truly in love with Harry.

Still that didn’t mean Harry wanted to slap such facts in the blonds face.

“I would think my meaning is fairly obvious” Draco stated, some of the old, derisive Draco coming back out. Harry mentally sighed in relief—it would be okay, this wouldn’t break his friend. “I thought I could let you go…that I could watch you move on with the squib and be happy for you. But I don’t think I can…. not until I at least let you know the truth. I want to be with you Harry, father be damned. If you can’t stomach the traditional way of doing things…then, then it’s okay. I won’t marry Astoria….I just….please Harry?”

Harry swallowed thickly, his heart hurting already for the rejection he was about to serve…he could only pray that Draco took this rejection better than he had in first year.

“Draco….I…” Harry faltered slightly before steeling his shoulders. No--- it would hurt Draco, but he was starting to realize that it was better to tell him the truth then to let him live with a lie. He couldn’t be with Draco, not when he….not when he was in love with Sebastian.

And there he had acknowledged it…he had finally admitted it (mentally at least): he was in love with Sebastian.

He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him at this realization and wondered just how long it had been coming? Just how long had he felt like this for his husband?-- because although he had just only now realized the fact, he knew that it had been a long time coming.

“Draco, you know that I will always love you….” he paused to swallow again, forcing himself to ignore the hopeful light that had lit up in the grey eyes across from him at those words. He steeled himself once again before continuing, “you know that I will always love you but it’s not the kind of love that you need it to be” he finished wishing futilely that the sudden loss of that hopeful light had not been because of him.

“I see” Draco stated after a few minutes of tense silence, his tone far more icy and frigid then before.

Harry grabbed onto Draco’s hand to force him to look back at him, “Draco….please” he said softly his tone pleading.

Draco tried to pull his hand away, intending to slide out of the booth and get out of this place—away from the humiliation he was feeling.

“Draco. Draco, look at me” Harry commanded tightening his grip. When Draco finally did—albeit very reluctantly, his expression into one of forced aloofness, Harry sighed and tried again tone soft, “Draco, I’m sorry, I am. Please don’t do this….I-I don’t want to lose you, to go back to how things were before. I’m sorry I can’t be what you want me to be but you’re my friend and I can’t lie to you. It would just end up with us both miserable and hating each other….I-I understand if you need space…but-but just know that if you need a friend, if you need me I will always be there…” Harry trailed off—wishing, praying that it could be enough.

Draco didn’t say anything for a long moment and Harry was sure that his attempt to save their friendship had failed, trying to reassure himself that his heart wasn’t breaking at the thought of losing yet another friend. Before he could completely lose hope however, Draco’s posture relaxed and his familiar (perhaps a tad forced at the moment) smirk fell into place.

“It’s fine Harry. It’s…thank you for telling me the truth, I needed to hear it” Draco stated his tone still stilted and aloof, though Harry could feel a slight warming of his tone—however slight it might be.

“I…thank you” was the only thing Harry could think to say in reply. He cleared his throat once more before hesitantly asking, “I…we…are we going to be okay?”

Draco gently reached down and peeled Harry’s iron grip from his hand, a small smile on his lips, “no…” watching as the boy savior’s posture folded in on itself before he added softly, “but we will be.”

\--o—

Hours later, found Harry shivering slightly as he waited just shy of the entrance for The Royal Opera house. Waiting, it would seem for his husband to show up with not only his person but their tickets for ‘Sweeney Todd.’ Harry could admit that he was rather excited at the prospect of seeing the show…not because he had any particular love of demonic barbers or anything but simply for the fact that he had never really attended something of this sort before.

Sure, right after the war he had been forced to countless ministry balls and what have you…but never had he had the chance to go and experience something as privileged and poncey (as Ron would say) as an opera. That in itself made him excited for the evening, the fact that it was Sebastian who had suggested it—knowing that Harry had never been before only added to the overall thrill of being here.

While he had hoped to meet Sebastian at home after his visit with Draco first and then go together, they had spoken briefly about what should happen should Sebastian end up with plans prior or if Harry’s visit went a little over. Sure dinner at home and then the opera would have been nice but he knew that Sebastian would meet him here and that they could still spend a bit of time together before the show (and if Harry got his way, a whole lot more time one-on-one after).

Surprisingly enough, Harry felt a whole lot better after his drink with Draco…it was almost as though his conscience had been weighing on him for months and now that he had made the decision to tell Sebastian everything, it could finally rest easy. He knew that it would take his and Draco’s friendship time to mend and before they were back to the easy affability they had experienced since the war…but he had faith in them. They would get there….maybe even given time Sebastian and Draco might get past their own hostility towards one another.

And ok, so maybe his excitement and good mood were leaking over a bit and giving him slightly unrealistic visions for the future…but hey, it was a rare thing for him to be actually excited and happy over something, that he wasn’t going to worry too much about it just right now. Right now, was solely for enjoying oneself and having a fun….

Now if only Sebastian would hurry up and arrive.

Harry glanced down at the pocket watch he had taken to carrying with him (another poncey thing according to Ron, but it wasn’t as though he could exactly cast a time charm when he was surrounded by muggles all the time and the wrist watches interfered with getting one’s wand out quickly--what with having a wrist holster release and all. Plus, he kind of liked having something as old fashion and timeless—no pun intended—as a pocket watch), feeling his brow furrow when he saw the time. Sebastian should have been here ages ago, in fact if his husband didn’t show up in the next five minutes they were going to miss the start altogether. The feeling of unease filtered past the previous excitement Harry had been feeling as he dug out his cell phone and checked to see if there were any missed calls indicating that Sebastian was held up somewhere.

There wasn’t.

Worry started to replace the unease when another half an hour passed and Sebastian still hadn’t shown. What if he was hurt? What if something had happened and he was lying in an alley somewhere bleeding to death? What if rogue death eaters (there were still a few who had managed to allude the ministry’s grasps) had decided to take revenge on Harry and had targeted the man they deemed closest to him now?—if anything were to happen to Sebastian it would be Harry’s fault.

He could feel his lungs constricting as panic started to take hold over the direction his thoughts were going.

No. No. Stop it. He couldn’t let himself break down right here…he needed to pull himself together and do something that would actually _help_ Sebastian. Plus there was no saying that anything nefarious had happened to his bonded.

Ok. First step, go back home and check in with Kathleen (as much as he despised the woman she might…however unlikely that was, have an idea where Sebastian was). If not, well then he could check to see if he had overlooked a note or message from Sebastian….worse came to worse he would call all the hospitals in the city and check to see if anyone matching Sebastian’s description had been admitted (of course they likely wouldn’t tell him anything but he could pull a favor or two from Kingsley—they were in London after all and he _was_ Harry Potter).

Yes, he had a plan. All he had to do was follow it through and he would find Sebastian. He would find Sebastian and do what needed to be done to correct whatever horrible thing had happened to him. This thought did not make him feel any better, but he couldn’t keep his mind from imagining the worse…something truly horrible and tragic; because he knew that Sebastian had been aware of how excited he was for tonight and nothing short of something horrible or unavoidable would have kept him from coming….right?

\--0---

Sebastian sneered as the tipsy man who was practically sitting on his lap leaned in closer so that his mouth was right beside Sebastian’s ear. The man whispered…or rather slurred something that Sebastian was sure he meant to be enticing or coy, but fell well flat of either, coming off as mildly repulsive instead.

Ignoring him the best that he could (and that was a rather difficult task considering his proximity) Sebastian signaled the bartender for another shot, downing it just as fast and without thought as the dozen or so before. He barely even grimaced at the now dulled burning sensation of vodka as it slid down his throat in what could only be called a soothing manner.

He knew that he was well past the point of drunk…most likely heading into the completely blitzed and trashed zone, but it would seem that it still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to eliminate the bitter taste of betrayal and cold anger that had been churning in his gut since he had left Harry with Draco at the pub. Somewhere in the back of his mind—the more logical, sober part he knew that getting pissed would not do anything to rectify the situation or his feelings for that matter, but at the moment he hardly cared.

He just could not bring himself to go home right now and see Harry’s lying, cheating face. He blindly reached for yet another shot, glaring murderously at the bartender’s “Hey mate, I think you’ve had enough there…”—couldn’t man see that he was perfectly fine? That he needed that liquid pain reliever?

He fumbled with his wallet digging through it in search of a few more notes…enough to make the heavily pierced man denying him his oblivion reconsider. Instead of the pounds he was searching for his fingers instead found two slips of paper made from a much studier material. What the hell?!---ah right, the tickets that he had bought for Harry and himself. Tickets that he was suppose to bring with him when he met Harry….oh, about three hours ago. He felt an ugly sneer form on his lips as he viciously pulled the vile paper stubs out of his wallet and tossed them aside, not caring that they floated down in a depressing spiral before meeting their end on the alcohol soaked floor below the counter.

Just more proof on how pathetic he had been acting lately….buying tickets because it was something he knew would make Harry happy. Disgusting. He ignored the sharp ache in his chest as he fished back into his wallet, this time producing the sought after pounds and tossing them at the keeper of the alcohol producing gates. There that should do it….bribes always worked for these types of people—now the scowling man would covertly scoop up the offered goods and overlook that pesky little rule about not giving his client’s alcohol poisoning….

Or not-- apparently the man was not the type to accept bribes no matter the amount since the man just shook his head, ignoring Sebastian’s angry words as though they were nothing. Fine then. If he couldn’t drink his way into oblivion then there was really only one option left open to him….well two, but he wasn’t quite pathetic and desperate enough to resort to finding chemical respite just yet.

No, when all else failed him…Sebastian could always turn to sex to escape. And judging from the nematode draped over him he wouldn’t have to go all that far to get it. A small part of Sebastian felt that it would serve Harry right, that it was what the raven haired wizard deserved. See how he liked being served his own medicine.

Sebastian didn’t even have to say anything to the man, just a harsh tug on his arm after having shakily stood up from his bar stool and a jerky nod towards the bathroom doors. He tried not to shudder too much when his partner’s face broke out in a huge, sloppy smile. Forcing himself to ignore the slight spinning in the room around him, and his mind to grasp on to the tiny bit of awareness that was still there, Sebastian led the man through the crowd not caring if he pushed and shoved people aside as he did so.

They half stumbled, half fell into the harshly lit bathroom, ignoring the kid (who could not have been much out of his preteens) who was washing his hands. Sebastian shoved his partner back against the sink counter, moving so that he was standing in between the man’s slightly spread legs. He took a moment to look at him—to truly look.

He wasn’t all that bad looking, truth be-told. Mid-length auburn hair-- not the offensive type of red but a rather nice burnt color, pale blue eyes—slightly round and perhaps a bit squinty but not horrible, a good set of teeth, a decent enough body; overall probably a 6 or so on Sebastian’s rating scale….so why did he feel so dirty when the man reached out to pull himself to Sebastian? Why did he feel repulsed rather turned on when the man nuzzled his neck? Why…?

But that wasn’t really a question. Sebastian knew why. He knew and he hated the reason. It was because the man didn’t have a slim, wiry frame—one that was always, even when asleep, slightly tensed as though ready to leap to attention at a moment’s notice. It was because the man’s eyes weren’t that startling shade of green, and his hair wasn’t a rat’s nest of black….

It was because he wasn’t Harry.

And in that moment Sebastian had never hated more.

Hated who--- himself or Harry, he didn’t know. He didn’t know if he was angrier at himself for stooping to trying to get some petty revenge in this manner or if he was more angry that he couldn’t go through with it.

All he knew was that he was angry.

Sebastian cursed, and drunkenly pushed the man off of him not bothering to wait for angry accusations from his almost partner as he half stumbled his way back out of the bathroom and towards the exit. Fuck.

How the hell had it come to this? More importantly, how the hell had _he_ come to this—this pathetic, sad excuse of a man? How had he let his guard down and trusted Harry in the first place?

Why had he let the wizard weasel his way into Sebastian’s life and….and….

Fuck it, he could say it….after all it wasn’t as though saying it and admitting it to himself could make things any worse than they already were. He could do this at the very least.

Heart. There that wasn’t so hard. Why had he let Harry into his heart? Why had he let himself fall in love with Harry James Potter?

As the words slowly sunk into his alcohol stupored mind and the meaning started to resonate with him, Sebastian realized he was wrong. Things could get worse. Christ, it hurt….it hurt so fucking bad.

And as the late night commuters and taxis whizzed by, the night crowd—filled with drunken laughter and angry shouts, swelled and ebbed around him; Sebastian Smythe sunk to the ground, his back half resting on a graffitied bus bench, his legs sprawled out before him, and cried.

\----0--

Harry had been angry, hurt and confused numerous times, caused by a number of different people over his short life. But he had never—not after first learning about the wizarding world, not after finding out that there was a psychotic mad man out to kill him, not after being betrayed time and time again by his friends and foes alike—been as hurt and confused…and yes, angry as he was right now.

He didn’t understand it. Before he had left to go and meet with Draco, he and Sebastian had been perfectly fine—great even. But a mere twelve hours later it was like he was married to a completely different person. Sebastian wasn’t even acting like had when they first found out they were bonded…no, that would have hurt but at least it was a side of Sebastian that Harry had witnessed before.

The Sebastian that showed up, drunk out of his mind, a veritable ball of rage and fury at four in the fucking morning after Harry had spent the last several hours calling in every favor he had to try and locate his missing husband-- scared to death that something had happened to the brunette, was a Sebastian that Harry had never met. He was terrifying.

When Harry had rushed back to the apartment, cold and wet from the cold fog and mist that were blanketing London in their typical fashion he had half hoped—half dreaded that Sebastian would be there. Hoped because it meant that Sebastian wasn’t actually injured and possibly dying somewhere alone in the middle of London, dreading because if he was home then why hadn’t he come to meet Harry? He had arrived quite a bit more disheveled than normal to find the apartment empty save for Kathleen Symthe who had been just about to leave—dressed to the nines, for whatever high society soiree she deemed to grace with her presence.

_Flashback_

_Harry spilled from the elevator; slightly breathless (from fear and adrenalin rather than actual physical effort) quickly slipping the extra key that Sebastian had given him earlier in the week into the door. Why there was a second lock and door after one got off the elevator, which itself needed the correct key to access the floor, Harry didn’t know, nor at the moment care._

_For once he was relieved to see Sebastian’s mother when he pushed the door open, trying not to grimace as it smacked back a little too forcefully. Kathleen of course noticed and sent him a glare that he was sure could re-freeze the ice-caps right back into pre-Global warming shape, though in all honesty it was only a tad more frigid than the one she normally gave him so he paid it no mind._

_“Do you know where Sebastian is?” he asked cutting right to the chase._

_Kathleen pursed her penciled lips, leaning over to scoop up what appeared to be a mink coat (and seriously who the hell still wore mink? The only thing that could make it more cliché was if she decided that bicolor hair and murdering puppies were all the latest fashion)taking her sweet time before she decided to answer him, “Last time I saw him was several hours ago. He was rather agitated poor thing….” she smirked fastening the buttons to her coat in a manner that could only be labeled as completely insincere before continuing, “he didn’t stay long, just changed his clothes and took off….though I have to say his fashion choices were not at all suited for your little evening.”_

_Harry had to fight every instinct in him that wanted to go over and strangle the bitch. How was it possible for a mother to have so little regard for her own flesh and blood?—not that he wasn’t aware that blood could mean very little (thank you Dursley’s) but at least they were not his actual parents. Didn’t she care that Sebastian could be hurt or in trouble? No, it would seem not…for she was far too busy enjoying her own shallow life to give one thought to her son’s. It truly seemed like the only role she took in her Sebastian’s life was to cause as much grief and trouble as she could for her son._

_Harry wasn’t stupid he could easily read between the lines of her comment and grasp what she was implying however he also had gotten to know Kathleen Smythe to some degree over the last week and knew that every word she said with regards to Sebastian had to be taken with a grain—or rather pound of salt._

_Harry sent a sneer right back to her, turning away from her and moving to venture further into the room, “Thanks so much for your help, don’t know what I would have done without it”_

_“Whatever, don’t break anything” she stated her disdain as evident as his sarcasm had been before swiftly exiting, letting the door slam shut with just as much force as she had glared at Harry for previously._

_Shit. While he had not held a lot of hope in her knowing where Sebastian was, it was still disappointing. It also did nothing to sooth the worry that was rising steadily…._

_Where are you Sebastian?_

_(end flashback)_

Harry had called Kinglsey within minutes, only waiting long enough to try Sebastian’s cell a few more dozen times—always going straight to voice mail, and to scan the apartment in case he had left some note of explanation. After a long drawn out conversation with essentially the leader of Wizarding Britain, a lot of pleading and half meant promises, the Minster had called out to his sources....one’s that stretched throughout England and confirmed for Harry that: no, nobody that fit Sebastian’s description had shown up at any of the hospital’s or in any of the muggle police reports.

This left Harry with no other option but to wait, so that is what he did. He sat waiting and praying, and perhaps pacing a whole lot, for Sebastian to come back. As the hours slipped by, eight turning into nine and so forth, he found it harder and harder to breath.

By the time that the front door slammed open once again, a little after four in the morning—Harry had convinced himself that Kingsley’s sources were not as infallible as the man liked to believe and that Sebastian was likely not in a hospital bed but in a morgue someplace.

He had nearly jumped out of his skin as the loud noise pierced the until then-- completely room, assuming for a second that it was Kathleen coming back to demonstrate more of her motherly devotion and worry. When he registered that no, it was not Kathleen but the very man who he had been panicking over for the last several hours, he didn’t even think to question why he was only now showing up or where he had been. No, in his relief at seeing the man alive and…well, mostly well if you could ignore the wafts of alcohol seeping out of him, Harry surged forward with every intention of grabbing and kissing the life out of the brunette.

The the exact moment when Harry started to realize that there was something wrong with Sebastian-- something incredibly wrong, was when he felt his smaller body being pushed violently away—forceful enough that he stumbled and would have fallen had he not grabbed onto the corner of the nearest object (which just happened to be an incredibly expensive antique couch).

“Sebas..” he started, his voice sounding shocked and confused even to his own ears—what the hell?

“Don’t touch me! Don’t you fucking touch me you disgusting slut” Sebastian hissed with a venom that would have made Harry blanch even if his words hadn’t achieved it first.

Things had only deteriorated from there. Confused and more than a little pissed off at Sebastian’s behavior, not to mention the fact that his bonded had obviously been out getting trashed and not lying somewhere dead in the ditch (though if he kept it up that was still a distinct possibility, Harry had thought at one point) Harry had let his own temper get the better of him.

The next several minutes had involved a lot of angry, hurtful language from both sides—effectively alienating them from each other while not actually saying much of anything. A fist to the face for Sebastian and one to the gut for Harry-- all culminating with the slamming of doors.

That had been four days ago, and as of this moment with Harry seated not even inches from the brunette thanks to their pre-booked seats on British Airways, they had not spoken a word to each other since. Well, Sebastian hadn’t spoken one word….Harry had spoken plenty, or at least he had tried to.

The morning after Harry had attempted for the first, and most definitely not the last time to talk to Sebastian and figure out just what the hell was wrong with him. What had made him act like such a complete jackass the night before and had sought him out to talk about it. After his own temper had simmered down a bit he had been willing to admit his own mistakes and culpability in the escalation of their fight the night before, and decided that the only way to understand was to actually talk to the infuriating moron. So, he had gone to do just that…. only to find the brunette once again missing.

And that was pretty much the flavor for the rest of their stay in London; Harry trying to figure out where things had gone so wrong and just what had caused Sebastian’s sudden bipolar swing in attitude, while trying to ignore all of his own insecurities and Hunter’s implications and Sebastian doing everything in his power to avoid and other wise pretend that Harry did not exist. And when not able to do so reacting with an anger that Harry had previously never thought him capable of.

He didn’t know what had gone wrong, but it was obvious that something had. He wondered briefly if Sebastian somehow found out about Draco, but even if he had the way he was acting was completely unacceptable. Harry may have been wrong for lying to him about keeping in contact with his friend, but he had done nothing wrong with keeping Draco as a friend.

No, whatever the hell Sebastian’s problem was, it was on him. If the bastard didn’t want to talk about it or explain just why he had turned into the world’s most ginormous ass then that was also on him.

Harry only wished that he hadn’t already fallen in love with the bastard.

\--o—

Blaine looked down at his shoulder bag with ill concealed surprise when he heard his cell phone go off. Who the hell was calling him? He knew for certain that it wasn’t Kurt—no, after their last conversation he seriously doubted that Kurt would be calling him within the next century or so. Mailing him a bomb or anthrax, perhaps….but calling, no, not likely. After all for the most part ex’s tended to try and avoid contacting one another after getting dumped.

And for that same reasoning he did not thing that any of the glee kids would be calling him—maybe Sam, but he had gone home to visit his family this weekend and he generally avoided running up his phone bill with long distance charges when he could, not that Blaine could blame him….he knew Sam’s family was not well off and had to cut cost where they could. But getting back to his reasoning, because of his and Kurt’s horrific (but desperately needed) breakup at the start of the break, Blaine seriously doubted that any of the usual suspects would be calling him….as much as he was their friend, Kurt had been their friend first and well, he had cut most of his ties with the Warblers thanks to his relationship with Kurt and transfer to McKinley so he didn’t think it was any of them either.

He didn’t even bother to wonder if it was his family calling-- that was about as likely as Santana deciding to take up a vow of complete chastity and suddenly start a hugging-because-you-love-humankind movement.

He grabbed his bag from the floor and fished his phone out, staring in confusion as a most definitely long distance number blinked up at him. “Hello?”

“Hey Killer” a very familiar yet slightly slurred voice crackled across the line bringing an instant smile to Blaine’s face. Why was Sebastian calling him right now? And more importantly why did it sound like he had been drinking?—it was only a little after seven in the morning here, which would make it around…..noon in England? Blaine shook his head trying to corral his wandering thoughts….it shouldn’t matter if his friend had been drinking or not, it was good to hear from him regardless.

God, it had been a while…. he hadn’t heard from Sebastian in more than three weeks. He had decreased the amount of texts, calls that he had been making, deciding to put some distance in between them after his conversation with Harry. He had done it in order to get a little perspective on just what the hell he wanted --in regards to both Sebastian and in his own relationship: which had led him to realizing several things:

One: Harry was right, the large part of his attraction to the Warbler was the attention that Sebastian always gave him, the way he could make Blaine feel like he was the only one that mattered. As horrible as it sounded the reason why he had started to reconsider his friend was because he was more worried about losing that attention, than actually losing a chance to date the brunette. He honestly wasn’t sure if he was genuinely interested in Sebastian in t _hat_ way or not… though he still thought that they could be good friends regardless. And two: Being with Kurt was no longer making either him or Kurt happy—hence their break up. A break up that Kurt definitely fought whole heartedly against, even while making comments that made it abundantly clear that he was no more happy with their long distance relationship then Blaine was. While saying good bye to Kurt had hurt—the way that saying good bye to anyone who was familiar and comfortable would hurt, he knew that it was for the best.

He had to admit he would be eternally grateful to Harry for his advice that night….had he not been subjected to the frank Brit’s words, he might have deluded himself into making a huge mistake—like cheating on his boyfriend, or worse proposing to him! Yeah—definitely a good thing he had come to his senses before either of those scenarios had occurred.

“H-hey Bas…..um…how are you?” He managed to stutter out, quickly pushing the surprise he felt over this unexpected call away, while trying to think of a tactful way to ask Sebastian why he was calling him drunk this early in the day.

“I iszz good killer, always good” Sebastian said, making it abundantly clear that he was anything but _good_ at the moment.

“Really?” Blaine asked skeptically, sinking back down on his bed.

“Yup, fuuuckin fabulous. Fckin love my life and shit people in it…..but enough about me killer howz things with uu? How’s the proody princess?” Sebastian asked laughing in a way that could only be described as bitter.

Blaine felt his own brows scrunch up at Sebastian’s words; he had never heard the brunette sound so bitter or sour before. Sure the warbler had always had a rather sarcastic and cutting type of humor but he had never really sounded so….well, defeated before.

“Um…we broke up, but hey Sebastian are you okay? Because to be honest you don’t really sound it….” Blaine trailed off.

There was a moment of silence between the two, followed by a derisive snort, “huh….well appears that May is a shit time for relationships….not even the perfect couple could survive guess I shouldn’t be so disappointed that my own fucked up one was a sham”

What? Was Sebastian saying that he and Harry had broken up? What did he even mean by that—a short separation or were they getting divorced? How did that even work? What the hell had caused it? As much as Blaine had been jealous of the Brit for getting Sebastian’s attention, he could see even in that first meeting that they both cared for each other….even if they were too dense to acknowledge that fact. So what the hell had happened?

“What do you mean Bas? Are you and Harry okay?” Blaine asked equal parts concerned and curious. He heard another bitter laugh from Sebastian’s side and felt his stomach sink. Sure, he had been a shit head earlier, trying to get in between the two of them….but he had never really wanted to hurt his friend. And as hard as Sebastian tried to hide it behind caustic remarks and bitter amusement he could tell that the brunette was hurting.

“If okay izz finding out your supposed huszband been fuckin around behind your back the whole time…then yeah, we’re peachy”

Blaine felt his mouth fall open in surprise. What?!?! No…..he couldn’t believe that….not after the impassioned speech the Brit had given him earlier. How he had laid into Blaine for flirting with Sebastian while still being in a relationship…surely the teen was that much of a hypocrite…was he?

“Wha…are you sure Sebastian?” Blaine asked hesitantly. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding?-- he knew that neither of the prickly teens were great communicators, or at least that was what he assumed from what little he had saw of their relationship.

“Yup” Sebastian said popping the p, “saw him myself, hell even heard him tell the blond skank…his ex, or so he told me… though knowing what I know now he probably lied about that to—that he would always love him”

Blaine let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding, “Shit” was all he could think to say. And really coming from Blaine Anderson, the model of politeness it was a big deal. He couldn’t believe it! How dare he!

Blaine felt an anger like he hadn’t felt since Karofsky bubble forth. What a lying sack of…He shook his head and forced himself to calm down. What was done was done. To think he had been thankful to Harry for his dress down—he wondered if the green eyed teen had even meant any of it or if it had all been a game to him?

No, screw that. It didn’t matter, what mattered at the moment was his friend: his friend who was obviously hurting and feeling all alone …he would push aside his indignation at Harry’s actions for now and concentrate on being there for his friend.

But heaven help him….when he saw that little poser again he would show him what a real dress down looked like. One thing was for sure, Harry James Potter would regret the day that he messed with Blaine’s friend, of that Blaine would make sure.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song artist and song: Genesis; Misunderstanding


	17. Skinny Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait all. I have valid excuses but I doubt anyone actaully cares so I will just apolagize for the wait and give you a chapter instead ;) Thanks to all those who reviewed-you guys are the best!
> 
> this is the last chapter where sebastain and harry are being stupid (promise!) they will get there act together in the next chapter. We are also nearing the end of this story...not including this chapter there will be two more. So agian thanks to everyone who has stuck with this...as always PLEASE PLEASE review and let me know what you think!

* * *

 

_Come on skinny love_

_Just last the year_

_Pour a little salts_

_We were never here_

* * *

 

 ** _June_** -

Sebastian stood glaring out of the window, down at the slim figure that made yet another lap around what doubled as both the lacrosse field (when in season) and the track field. The green eyed wizard had been down there for over an hour now and by the stress (that even from where Sebastian stood, he could see) in his posture it did not appear as though he would be winding down anytime soon. Letting out an irritated huff Sebastian forced himself to turn away from the view and continue on towards the common room where—he had no doubt—the rest of the Warblers were likely waiting for him to show up.

Since they had returned from England things between him and Harry had been…..tense, to put it mildly. After seeing Draco and Harry together and hearing from Harry’s own lips that he was in love with the ugly, annoying, whiny, girly (he could continue adding adjectives—all of them true of course) blond, he had been too furious to see straight. It had taken all of his will power not to lash out more then he had at his husband that night—and it was really only seeing the fear that Harry tried to hide in those green eyes that had stopped him from going too far.

He might be hurt, angry beyond reason and confused about the Brit but even so, he never wanted to cross that line into making Harry actually fear him. Resent, curse and scowl at him fine…but even if they were no more and Harry had betrayed him in the worst way possible he still didn’t want him to be afraid. And yes, perhaps his anger and betrayed feelings were a tad hypocritical of him considering the fact that he had done essentially the same thing to Harry after they first bonded and almost did it again just recently…but in his mind they were completely different.

He had fooled around on Harry when they barely knew each other and had not made any clear commitment to one another (yeah sure there was the whole ‘you are bonded to each other for a year’ bit but they had not personally sat down and acknowledged as much)…while Harry had been going behind his back this whole time sleeping around with not just random guys but an ex who he actually cared about! As for this last time, well he had thought about it and almost did it but even knowing how Harry betrayed him he still hadn’t gone through with it. So no, his own actions and Harry’s were not equal in his opinion. At least that was what he told himself in order to not cave to Harry’s continued persistence at trying to talk to him.

Or at least his husband had been fairly persistent in trying to….though in truth the Brit’s efforts had become less frequent as time went on and he had no success. He knew that he was being childish by refusing to talk to Harry—especially since talking to him was really the only way for him to get a full explanation on the events he had witnessed. But maybe that was why he was so adamant in his continued refusal to acknowledge Harry…fear, as they say can be a persuading factor. He didn’t really _want_ to hear Harry’s explanations—and he convinced himself, lies. No…to sit down and let Harry talk, to let Harry lie yet again to him would be giving the wizard back the power that right now Sebastian had; and to be honest he didn’t want to.

So he had continued to give the green eyed teen nothing but cold aloofness and distain, avoiding him when at all possible and purposefully ignoring him when he couldn’t. The guilt he felt overseeing the confusion and hurt in those green eyes only served to make him angrier and harden his resolve. He shouldn’t be the one feeling guilty! He wasn’t the one in the wrong here….he wasn’t!

“Ah…Smythe, so nice of you to finally join us” Hunter’s smug, superior voice interrupted his internal brooding.

Sebastian couldn’t find the energy needed to send the idiot at scathing reply back so just settled on glaring—not that it had much of an effect but it did make him feel marginally better.

Hunter appeared almost disappointed with the lack of response he got but was prevented from trying once again to irritate the brunette by the sound of gavel on wood and the official start of yet another Warbler’s council meeting. This one to discuss what they should do in regards to the team next year—something Sebastian had very little interest in.

In truth their second place at Regional’s had barely registered on his psyche as he had been far too involved with Harry and all the drama that the wizard seemed to bring with him at that time….and now, well now he had to wonder what the hell was the point to all of this?

Why was he still here when Warblers and Lacrosse were officially done, their classes were essentially finished and they now just had to wait to write their end of year exams in two weeks time? Why was he forcing himself to stay around people who he really could care less about (despite the time he had spent at Dalton he was still hard pressed to call any of the boys there his friends—or at least that was what he told himself) and even more so, a husband that he couldn’t spend more than ten minutes in the same room as?

No….he suddenly realized, it really didn’t make any sense at all. What he needed was space….space and time away from this place and from….from Harry. Time to simmer down and allow himself to think rationally about the situation, to see it when he wasn’t running rampant on emotions and hurt. He needed to go somewhere where he could find this….

But where?

And then it hit him with the force of a truck….The MIT meet and greet this weekend. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t thought about this sooner, in fact he had all but forgotten about the glossy invite he had received just shortly after they had returned from spring break.

Every year MIT held a week long ‘meet and greet’ so to say: a week of social events for the new prospective students to meet each other and talk to staff, older students and alumni in order to get a feel for the campus and how MIT worked. Before the break he would have likely have talked to Harry about it and they likely would have gone down for the weekend at most, but now….

Well now a week away, far way from Dalton and more importantly Harry sounded a whole lot more enticing. Mind made up, Sebastian began to mentally plan what he needed to pack while taking out his blackberry and booking a one way flight to Cambridge.

It left that evening, and if he failed to tell Harry just where he was going or for that matter even that he was going at all…. Well, he figured he was perfectly justified in his oversight.

\--00—

“…just take the macroeconomics course this year but the admissions board said that I couldn’t take the macro course if I hadn’t completed the micro course, which if you ask me is complete bullshit. I already took the micro course, the only reason I didn’t receive credit is because the teacher is a complete tool….”

Sebastian didn’t even bother giving the gangly, pinched faced boy in front of him his usual derisive sneer—there was really no point; it would have been completely lost on him anyway. “Or maybe, your just completely incompetent” Sebastian interrupted the continuous out flow of words from his conversation partner.

At least that comment seemed to do what nothing else had done and shut the boy up, though it was definitely not doing what they had been instructed to do; aka: ‘make new friends’—not that Sebastian cared in the least, it wasn’t as if he would have ever been friends with such a babbling moron to begin with. Sadly it seemed that everyone here could be cast into that category.

And okay, so maybe Sebastian was taking out his bad mood and the fact that even thousands of miles away a certain green eyed wizard would not get out of his head, on those around him. After all, if he was too be completely fair, he would have to admit that not _all_ of the people he had met were complete idiots. Kendra had been okay—sort of a nerdy version of Santana: full of snark and superiority and Clint or Clark or whatever, had been bearable but they were not Harry.

No matter how snarky Kendra was, or how agreeable and low key Clint was, they could not hold his interest or amuse him the way that Harry could—and it sucked.

“So who is it?” a new rather appealing low voice asked.

Sebastian hastily drew his attention to the forefront and away from his own brooding thoughts about a certain, annoyingly, persistent raven headed teen, to see that a short, blond pipsqueak of a girl standing in front of him.

“Excuse me?” Sebastian asked not really sure how to take the girl standing in there with all the confidence and wry amusement of someone twice her size and certainly a decade her age—hell she couldn’t be older then twelve or thirteen. Her voice definitely did not match her appearance-- if one went by her voice, she would have been a twenties lounge singer.

The little pipsqueak shot him what could only be called a smirk, extending her puny hand, “I’m Sol by the way and I was referring to whoever it is you are thinking about….must be someone pretty special to hold that amount of concentration” she stated as though she was talking about the most obvious and not intrusive thing in the world.

“I…I have no idea what you are talking about” Sebastian denied stiffly, “and anyhow what would you even know about such things—you look like you’re barely out of diapers”

He had expected a glare, perhaps for her to look affronted by his words—like so many of the others that had tried to talk to him had looked, but instead he received a beaming grin one which made Sol look even younger then before…it was rather disconcerting.

“Perhaps. I’m fourteen…I’m in the accelerated program because well, I’m a genius. And as a genius I know things. And I know that look. It’s the look of someone who is missing something…or _someone_ incredibly important to them but they are just too stubborn or stupid to admit it or do something about it”

Sebastian felt his face flush slightly at her implications and….in truth the accuracy of her statement (not that he was about to tell her that or anything, annoying little midget), “You’re wrong” he refuted trying to put as much conviction as he could muster into his statement.

It appeared that it was not enough.

“No I’m not. People tend to underestimate or ignore me because of my age, so I have gotten used to having to decipher and read people’s expressions and body language. You can say what you like pretty boy but your denial will only hurt you in the end…..but it’s your choice” Sol stated her bouncy flippancy draining away at the end leaving a very serious looking girl in its place. Sebastian found that he really didn’t care for the change.

“And what are you saying I should choose?” Sebastian asked more out of curiosity to hear her response then any real intent on taking her words to heart.

“You know” She stated giving him another over watt smile before reaching forward to give him a brief and completely unexpected hug—not quite managing to get her arms all the way around due to her size, “It was nice meeting you Sebastian Smythe….choose wisely”

And with that she let go and disappeared into the crowd leaving Sebastian to stare after here in complete bafflement. It was only after that evening’s socializing had finished and Sebastian had made his way back to the temporary dorm rooms the visitor’s had been given for this week’s event, that he realized that he had never told her his name.

-oo--

Harry just about did an about-face when he entered the Lima bean and saw just who was currently there. It was stupid of him really not to have expected to run into some of the McKinley crowd here…really, it was rather stupid that he had driven all the bloody way here for a coffee in the first place.

He was still trying to convince himself that he had just simply grown a liking for abysmal tea and t _hat_ was his reason for coming all the way to Lima for a cup—it most certainly was not because he missed a certain annoying, confusing, infuriating, obnoxious brunette or anything thing: nope, definitely not.

He took a deep breath and entered the shop resolute on pretending that he had not seen Blaine seated at one of the side tables drinking coffee with the rather annoying Asian girl—Tina? Maybe if he pretended that he hadn’t seen them, they would do the same. Yeah right….

It wasn’t that he necessarily disliked Blaine at this point…in truth, he was rather ambivalent to his existence. To him Blaine was just a typical teenager---someone with typical teenaged dramas and stresses, and who was just starting to realize that these years were not the pinnacle of one’s life. He had resented the boy when Blaine had made no qualms about pursuing Sebastian but after their little chat all those months ago, the brunette had backed off and started to act more respectively towards his and Sebastian’s relationship; so really Harry didn’t have an issue with Blaine any longer.

Though it would seem that the same could not be said for Blaine.

Harry watched with a sinking heart as Blaine moved away from the girl and marched with a look of pure loathing and determination towards where Harry was standing in line waiting to place his order.

“What are you doing here? You have some nerve!” Blaine spat at him moving in a way that Harry was sure the other teen thought was threatening. As threatening as a soaked kitten perhaps… it was all Harry could do not to laugh at the picture Blaine presented, but he managed—if just barely.

“Getting tea? What else would I be doing?” Harry replied back in a droll voice, wondering just what he had done to Blaine in the last little while to get such a hostile reaction from the teen. He could only assume that it was related to whatever Sebastian had told the brunette…not that that really clarified the situation any, as Harry was still unsure what exactly Sebastian was so pissed at him over. His confusion and hurt towards his husband had morphed into anger and annoyance a long time ago: sometime between Sebastian’s rather frightening display at his mother’s and his continued refusal to so much as glance—much less talk—to Harry in the last few weeks. The very thought that Sebastian had confided in Blaine over Harry made the hurt he had been feeling previously flare up again.

If anything, Harry’s blasé reply seemed to stoke Blaine’s own angry indignation even further.

“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe that I actually listened to a word you said….did you even mean any of the crap you spouted? Or was it all just some twisted sick game to you? You’re such a hypocrite! Sebastian is better without you….”

Wait! What the hell? Harry turned fully to face the ranting teen. What the hell was he talking about now? When had he given Blaine advice to begin with….oh.

 _Oh_ —the stop trying to cheat on your boyfriend advice; it had to be, it was the only time that he and Blaine had ever really had a full conversation….but that would mean…..oh.

Harry’s thoughts felt like they were a massive mess made up of the past few weeks of Sebastian’s cold behavior and events leading up to it, suddenly he had a fairly good idea just what had Sebastian’s knickers in such a twist, but he had to be sure….

“ _What_ are you talking about?” Harry interrupted Blaine’s rant, his question firm and demanding.

Blaine stood there gaping for a second looking a little shocked—over being suddenly interrupted or by Harry’s tone, he wasn’t sure.

“I…how…don’t even think you can try that! That fake innocence act won’t get you anywhere with me! As if you don’t know. I’m talking about the fact that you are cheating on Sebastian!—with some ex no less!” Blaine hissed his glare causing a large line between his two eyebrows.

“I…what?!” Harry exclaimed still somewhat surprised even though he had started to have his suspicions.

“Sebastian saw you. He heard you! So don’t even try to deny it! I can’t believe that you could give me such a sanctimonious speech when all this time…” Blaine trailed off.

A part of the other teen’s speech caught Harry’s curiosity and pulled him away from the current topic, “So you broke things off with your boyfriend then?” Harry couldn’t stop himself from asking—damn his curiosity.

“I….yes….b-but that’s not the point! The point is that you are a lying, cheating sack of shit and you should just go back to where you came from!” Blaine stated his voice getting louder and louder as he continued.

“No I’m not” Harry stated simply, watching as Blaine’s face turned from pink to an angry red in fascination.

“Don’t give me tha…” Blaine started to refute only to be interrupted by Harry once more.

“No I’m not liar or a cheat…well, I suppose I am kind of a liar….but I am not a cheat”

Harry quickly continued when it looked like Blaine was going to boil over at his denials, “I never cheated on Sebastian—though he cannot say the same. I have not been having sex or a relationship behind his back with Draco; who is who I assume he saw me with to base these accusations off of. Me and Draco are just friends. Close, good friends, but just friends” Harry stated firmly.

“B-but he saw you together….he heard you say that you would always love him!” Blaine stated though his expression showed he was starting to feel less and less confident with the accuracy of his accusations.

“Yes, that is probably true” Harry agreed easily continuing as Blaine made to say something else, “ _but_ if he had actually been listening he would have also heard me tell Draco that I loved him but not in that way. It’s true I love Draco but as a friend, as an annoying brother that you can’t help but want protect and cherish. I have not been going behind my husband’s back to have sex with Draco—we haven’t been together in years. Yes, I lied about being in contact with Draco…and I shouldn’t have. But in my defense when I first omitted the fact it was because Sebastian has a tendency to overreact and be a jealous prat and at that point we were just exchanging letters….it was just easier. I know I should have told him sooner, or even when we agreed to meet up but I didn’t and what’s done is done. While I was wrong, I have _never_ cheated on him. Something I would have told the idiot if he would bloody well stop for a moment and listen to me! But no…instead he has been a icy dick for the past few weeks and now he’s up and gone who-knows-where and for how long” Harry finished his own emotions getting the better of him and leaving him slightly out of breath.

Blaine stood there in silence looking shocked at his words—as though he couldn’t quite process them. “Wait….you-you never cheated on him?” Blaine reaffirmed.

“No.”

Blaine stood there gaping for a few seconds longer before his face crinkled up and he let out what sounded like a laugh. When he didn’t stop, his whole body starting to shake with poorly suppressed mirth Harry started to worry about the boy’s mental health.

“S-sorry” Blaine finally managed to spit out, wiping his eyes and forcing himself to take a deep breath in, “it’s just that you two have to be the worst communicators that I have ever met. I swear that the only reason you are so good together is because you both are so dysfunctional”

“Er….thanks?” Harry said uncertainly not quite sure how to take Blaine’s comment or his current slightly hysterical behavior. He couldn’t bring himself to feel overly offended—he knew what crap communicators he and Sebastian were and well, he had always known he was slightly dysfunctional.

It seemed that Blaine had finally gotten a hold of himself as he straightened slightly “You need to go and tell him” Blaine stated holding a hand up to silence Harry’s protests.

“No, listen to me. You need to go after him and you need to force him to listen to you. He is at some MIT mixer thing this week and believes that you have been with Draco behind his backs from the very start. That you have been just toying with him. In all the time that I have known him, you are the only person who I have seen him open up to—even a little. You need to go and fix things now….before it is too late and you both drift any further apart. Because if you don’t, you will lose him” Blaine said plainly, nothing but honesty and sincerity in his gaze, “and I don’t think that either of you truly want that”

It was Harry’s turn to be slightly shocked, never having seen the other teen so resolute…or for that matter _wise_. It seemed as though Blaine truly had done some growing up since they last spoke. He took a second to think over the teen’s words and realized that Blaine was right—he needed to try once more, to give them another chance, to force Sebastian to at least hear him out. If Sebastian heard him and s _till_ didn’t want anything to do with him….well, then Harry would accept that. But he couldn’t let them fall apart this way… not over a horribly convoluted misunderstanding, not without at least trying his damndest to make things right.

“No I don’t” Harry finally answered Blaine’s statement, the truth and sincerity that had been present in Blaine’s words, doubly so in his own.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song artist and song: Ed Sheeran: skinny love


	18. Sorry, so sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, so this is the last chapter before the epilogue-it is much shorter then any of the previous chapters, I had planned on more but the extra bits just didn't really fit so I will try to incorperate them into the epilogue instead!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who took the time to review (also to those who favorited and followed this!)...you guys are the ones that make me want to sit down and continue writing, so thank you!
> 
> Without further adu-heres the chapter (leave me a comment and let me know what you think) ;)

* * *

 

_And if you really didn’t know_

_I swear I really didn’t know_

_So I’m sorry, so sorry_

* * *

 

**_June-July_ **

Sebastian’s head shot up in surprise at the sound of someone knocking—no, pounding on his temporary dorm room door.

Not that he thought anyone could blame him for his surprise considering, despite the fact that he had been here for almost a week, he really hadn’t made all that many acquaintances—much less friends. In fact he had started regretting coming to the weeklong ‘get to know your year mates’ shin-dig almost as soon as he had landed. While it had sounded great in theory; what with being a perfect excuse to leave Dalton and Harry behind for a bit (something he had needed desperately in order to clear up his own thoughts and feelings in regard to the latter) it was just that; _theory_.

In truth, he had been miserable being this far away from his bonded. While he knew that the loneliness and just plain _wrongness_ that he had been feeling since leaving was, at least in part, due to the nature of their bond, he knew that it didn’t really excuse it entirely. No, the far more annoying and infuriating reason behind his dour mood was the fact that he just missed Harry—flat out. No magical voodoo bond or rational reason for it, he just did.

Cursing silently under his breath he hastily pulled the tee shirt he had been contemplating for tonight’s bonfire over his head and headed towards the door—set on reaming out the imbecile who had dared interrupt his solitude with their head splitting noise. Of course it was just another intention that failed to play out when he flung the door open to see just who was darkening his doorway.

“Er….Hi?” was the hesitant greeting given from the dark haired, green eyed, oh-so-familiar teen standing outside his door.

For a brief moment Sebastian was almost overwhelmed by the urge to latch onto Harry and squeeze the stuffing out of the slighter teen— _almost_ being the key word. It only took a few brief seconds for Sebastian to remember just why he was so furious and avoiding the teen to begin with, and only a second more to fashion his face into a suitable glower.

He didn’t even bother to say anything, taking a step back and moving to slam the door in Harry’s face only to find that he was unable to do so—curse the wizard’s lightening fast reflexes. “Don’t. Please” Harry spoke determinedly holding the door open with an outstretched arm.

Seeing no other option but to speak to him, Sebastian settled on a rather sensible inquiry—in his opinion anyway, “What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed letting the full depth of his anger shine through in his tone. Sadly, as always, it didn’t seem to faze his irritating husband in the least-- if the put-upon, weary sigh were anything to go by.

“I am here to _talk_ to you. You know that thing two people do when they need to tell each other something, or in our case clear something up” Harry replied.

“I don’t know if you are particularly slow—or just touched in the head or something, but I would have assumed by now that you would have caught onto the fact that I don’t _want_ to talk to you. Hence me leaving without doing so” Sebastian spat back mentally grimacing at the flinch Harry gave at the first part. It was a rather low blow—one that he couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty over…buuut well, the words were out there, not like he could really retract them now.

“Well as nice as it is to have a reminder on just how highly you think of me…” Harry shot back tensely his own glare one to do Sebastian’s shame, “no....I think you have made it perfectly clear just how much you want to see—much less hear from me. Something that I had basically accepted… up until I ran into your good friend Blaine”

Sebastian swallowed dryly, unable to hide his curiosity. What the hell had Blaine said to Harry that would bring the Brit all the way to Cambridge? It wasn’t like he had really told Blaine anything that wasn’t perfectly apparent about the situation…of course-- the tiny voice in the back of his head perked up just then to remind him of the fact that he hadn’t exactly told Harry that he had caught him cheating on him….

And why did that fact make him feel guilty?—see this was the exact reason that Sebastian had gone through most of his life striving to have no conscience….it made you completely irrational. Harry was the one who had cheated on _him_ ; there was no reason Sebastian should feel guilty over not having told the teen just why Sebastian was pissed off at him. None at all.

“And?” he finally asked sensing that it was what Harry was waiting for him to do.

“And this discussion would be better to have not standing in a hallway” Harry retorted raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Debating briefly, Sebastian finally sighed and stepped back waving his bonded into the room. He had spent the last week arguing the rationale behind his recent actions and had come to the conclusion that there really wasn’t any. He had been avoiding talking to Harry because he was afraid of hearing the truth from those lovely lips—unfortunately, avoiding didn’t make the problem go away and he knew logically he would have to face up to the upcoming conversation eventually.

He might as well do so now.

But it didn’t mean he had to make it easy for Harry. He let the door close with a loud thud before turning to face the other, his own glare spelling out his impatience. Harry, for once seemed to sense this and not try to purposefully irritate him further.

“I had an interesting conversation with Blaine—who seemed to be under the impression that I was cheating on you behind your back with my _friend_ Draco” Harry stated expression unreadable.

“The truth then” Sebastian snarled feeling the old familiar anger starting to bubble up again at Harry’s nerve. To just come out and say it—so lackaday…. like it was not a big deal!

“No. Not the truth” Harry refuted firmly, “if you had actually talked to me before just assuming things, you would have known this. But NO, you’re Sebastian Smythe! Why would you ever be wrong about something? Why would you bother talking to the person you are suppose to be in an equal, trusting relationship with?” Harry’s voice rose as he continued his own anger and hurt shining through.

“How dare you! Don’t even try that….I can’t believe you would come all this way just to lie to my face once more?!? I HEARD you. I heard you tell him you loved him! Don’t even bother denying it!!” Sebastian shouted back, overwhelmed with indignation at Harry’s words.

“I NEVER did. I never denied that I told Draco I loved him! but if you had taken the time to actually talk to me like a normal human being before just assuming whatever you wanted, you would know that I told him I love him like a brother—or a good friend. You would know that I told him that I couldn’t love him how he wanted me too!!” Harry shouted back his face flushed with emotion.

Sebastian had his mouth open to yell back but found that he couldn’t think of anything to say. Was it true? Had he really misinterpreted the entire thing? But no……it wasn’t possible…..was it?

“Why did you lie to me then? When I asked who you were meeting with?” Sebastian asked not quite ready to believe.

The anger dropped right off Harry’s face leaving the Brit looking sheepish and rather guilty, “I-I made a mistake” he answered softly, “I have been sending letters back and forth with Draco since moving to Ohio---as _friends”_ he emphasized the word before continuing, “I didn’t mean for it to turn into some big nasty secret….it’s just that you guys were so hostile towards each other. At the start I just didn’t want to make another bone of contention between us….and then later, when we were finally getting along….it felt like it was too late to just come out and say it; like I had been hiding it for some nefarious reason. I know I shouldn’t have lied-- especially to your face….I just panicked and then it was too late to take it back. I was going to tell you….but, well, then this entire thing happened….I am sorry for lying to you Sebastian. I didn’t mean for it to get so carried away. But I NEVER cheated on you—not with Draco or anyone else. I wouldn’t….” Harry finished running his hand through his hair in an agitated gesture but his tone completely sincere.

And strangely, despite everything that had happened in the past few weeks, despite how suspicious and untrusting Sebastian normally was, despite their numerous other issues that they had yet to address…he couldn’t help but believe him.

Now though, they needed to decide how to proceed from here….or even if they were going to proceed at all. All he knew was that they needed to sit down and figure things out—to figure out what was working and what was not.

Because as things were now—they would never survive beyond their requisite year….and despite everything, Sebastian really, really wanted them to.

“Ok” he stated trying not to smile at the surprise and overwhelming relief that came to Harry’s face when he heard the word.

“Ok?” Harry asked hesitantly, almost as though he was afraid to confirm it.

“Yeah…..but I think we need to sit down and talk. Really talk”

Harry shot him a grin back, nodding emphatically, “I’d like that” before moving to sit on the edge of the bed that took up most of the far wall.

Sebastian took a deep breath and moved to sit beside him. Screw the bonfire; this needed to happen. Because somehow Sebastian knew that whatever happened tonight would shape whatever they might have in the future.

And surprisingly, he was feeling rather hopeful for that possible future.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES
> 
> Song artist and song: Howie Day: Sorry, so sorry


	19. First Day of my life : Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! so this is the last chapter (sob! but really yay). I hope that you enjoy it. Thanks so much to all my awesome readers, especially to those of you that took the time to leave me a review or comment! 
> 
> This has been a fun journey and considering the lack of action and really-plot (most of this was all character development) it was a blast writing. Enough said, onto the story!
> 
> (ps. leave me a review to let me know what you thought-of this chapter, the overall story and anything else you want to say!)

_o-_

_Yours is the first face that I saw_  
I think I was blind before I met you  
Now I don't know where I am  
I don't know where I've been  
But I know where I want to go

_-00-_

**August (3 years later)**

Sebastian hid his knowing smirk behind his drink as the blond all but collapsed into the chair across from him, the strobe lights of the club causing the rather long strands of hair to have a reddish tinge to them.

"Finally decided then?" he asked though both he and his companion knew that it wasn't really so much a question, as a statement.

The man across from him shrugged his shoulders with an air of bred nonchalance, though the look on his face was far from. "I want to….I mean it's been the most fun I've had in a while but….I don't know….can I? really?"

"Why wouldn't you be able to?" Sebastian retorted quirking an eyebrow while turning his attention to scan the pulsating dance floor a few feet from where they were now sitting. He didn't have to look all that hard—the man he was looking for tended not to be one who was easily overlooked.

"I actually kind of like Anderson though"

That comment had Sebastian drawing his attention back to one of the four in their group for that night. He wasn't surprised in the least by Draco's comment, but could tell that the pureblood heir was.

"Well, isn't that a good thing? Considering this is sort of a double date and all…." Sebastian drawled.

Initially when Harry had shared his rather Slytherin plan with Sebastian (and yes, over the past few years Sebastian had heard and learned much with regards to Harry's world and his former schooling; including the school house's, rivalries and characteristics. He was most certain that he would have been sorted into the house of green and silver had enough magic to attend) he had been a little skeptical over the whole thing. While yes, he had gotten over their misunderstanding—something that was made easier by knowing that Harry loved him and only him- he was still not Draco Malfoy's biggest fan. The fact that the aristocrat had been single and unattached (ever since he had taken Harry's advice and refused to marry the Greengrass heir) were not points in his favor.

The only reason he had agreed to back Harry's schemes was on the off chance that it actually worked and Draco and Blaine found what they were looking for in each other. Anything that made for less competition for him, was a good thing after all….he had a sneaking suspicion that Harry's motivations for their eventual hook up came from the same place. Not that he would ever confront the green eyed minx on that—Harry would deny being jealous of Blaine and Sebastian's continued close friendship with his denying breath, just as Sebastian would do in regards to Draco and Harry's.

So far their friends had only gone out on a few dates here and there, but much to Sebastian's surprise it would seem that Harry's instance that they would be good together was not entirely false. Now if only the stubborn idiots could admit the same.

Draco squirmed, looking decidedly uncomfortable—much to Sebastian's amusement; it was so rare for the blond to show his unease. "I-I never really expected to actually like him when I agreed to this…" he finally admitted, refusing to meet Sebastian's eyes instead keeping them trained on the pattern he was tracing on the table in front of him.

"Then why agree to ask him out in the first place?" Sebastian asked though he had a feeling he knew the answer—an answer he was not all that happy about.

"It seemed to make Harry happy and…" Draco confessed before abruptly cutting himself off from whatever else he was going to say. Sebastian was surprised that he was still aware enough to do so, knowing that the only reason that Draco was really talking to him to start with was due to the large amount the blond had drank over the course of the evening.

"And?"

Draco flushed and shifted again appearing as though he was going to ignore the question entirely. So, Sebastian decided to push "And?" he repeated adding a bit more force to his tone and keeping his gaze trained on the uncomfortable wizard in front of him.

"hefitmytype" the blond muttered quickly.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that…want to repeat it and slower?" Sebastian stated not letting his gaze waver.

"He fit my type… he looked a lot like….never mind. Anyway, that was why I agreed to go out with him. I figured a one-two dates, maybe a quick fuck. I never actually expected to like him and now…" Draco trailed off his angry tirade petering out as quickly as it had shown up.

Sebastian had suspected that this was what the problem was—not that it made him any happier to hear it. He could guess at what was left unsaid; while he knew that Draco had never again overstepped his boundaries in regards to his feelings towards Sebastian's husband, he knew that the blond still had them. He had known even without the blond having it confirmed that Draco had agreed to go out with Sebastian's friend because Blaine looked a lot like Harry. It was rather ironic really….considering that was the reason that Sebastian had first slept with Harry; his resemblance to Blaine.

He also knew that the whole reason that Draco was now seemingly unsure and hesitant in continuing to pursue something with Blaine was because the blond found out that he actually liked him. It was no longer a casual thing, a quick fuck to the blond, and Draco's original reasons were causing him to feel guilty.

Sebastian decided to throw the man a bone, after all a successful relationship between Blaine and Draco was what he wanted—and not just because it meant Malfoy was moving on, but because he seriously did think that the two could be happy together. And he wanted that for his friend. "Well, it worked for me"

Malfoy's head shot up in surprise "Wait….what?" he asked his confusion over the comment apparent.

"It worked for me. Didn't Harry ever tell you how we got together in the first place?" Sebastian asked with a shrug.

"Yes…." Draco trailed of his confusion not fading, "you hooked up after meeting at a club, accidently bonded and the rest is basically history"

"Yeah, what he didn't tell you—and didn't know until not that long ago was the fact I initially slept with him was because he looked a lot like someone else who at the time, was unavailable and I was hung up on. The whole accidental bonding was a blessing in disguise as it forced us to actually get to know each other and it made me realize that the person I was initially pining over was not right for me like Harry was…." Sebastian explained, "….so the fact that you basically agreed to go out with Blaine for the same reasons, only to find that you actually enjoy his company is not the end of the world."

"It-it just feels….I don't know, wrong?" Draco denied half heartedly.

"What does it matter what your intentions were to start with?- that's in the past, what matters is how you feel now. Tell me do you like him? do you think that you could make Blaine happy? Is there any chance of developing something more with him? because if not, then you're right…walk away before he becomes to invested, but if the answer is yes; then you would only be hurting both him and yourself by not giving it a shot" Sebastian finished draining the last of his drink and setting the glass down on the table with a decisive thunk.

He didn't have to stick around to know that his words had gotten to Draco, so he didn't. "If you'll excuse me….it seems as though I have left my husband all alone on the dance floor for far too long" and with that parting comment, Sebastian made a beeline for the one and only man he cared about these days: Harry.

The idiots would figure things out….eventually. After all, he and Harry did.

-0—

Harry felt more then saw him approach—it was surprising, even to him how in-tune they had become over the past few years. Even after they had finally patched things up he had never expected to reach the point that they were at now. Not that it was a bad thing for once...no, it just was not what Harry had expected.

To be fair nothing in his life had really turned out the way he had expected and he could safely lay the blame solidly at one; Sebastian Anthony Smythe's feet.

Back when he had faced off against his parent's killer, he had never thought to imagine his life afterwards—hell, he hadn't really expected to _have_ a life afterwards. But he did—and it was both a frightening and a wonderful thing.

After the almost catastrophic misunderstanding both he and Sebastian had come to the realization that they were going about things the wrong way. While the suddenness of their forced bond had forced them to get to know each other in a way that they likely would not have should it not have occurred; it also set them up for failure. The 'no choice' part of it, coupled with their individual paranoia's, suspicious characters and general mistrust in anyone and everyone, had not helped. It had led them to a horribly painful decision at the time, but one that Harry could not regret making: they had decided to split up.

And no, it was not a split up in the most traditional sense of the word—for one they had to wait until the mandatory year was up before officially severing the bond, and secondly they had started right back up dating within a week of severing the bond. But this time they both knew that it was their freely made choice to do so and this time they had taken the time to date, learn more about each other's quirks and past before advancing to a more permanent and serious relationship.

True, it had caused a fair amount of gossip and confusion amongst their friends and family, but in the end they ignored everyone else's opinions and had done what was best for them. And now three years after they had first met, two since they had split up, they were once again bonded and married in the eyes of both the law and magic—and this time they had chosen it.

That seemed to make all the difference.

Not to say that everything was rainbows and sunshine afterwards (though there were quite a few occasions that could be classified as such; including when Hunter's locker had been searched on an anonymous tip- unearthing a fair amount of contraband and illegal steroids. Something that had firmly smashed all hopes of getting accepted into Harvard for the teen—and the fact that Sebastian had been rather horny and walked around with a smug grin for days after had been entirely coincidence. Entirely). There was still quite a bit of fighting and head butting between the two stubborn males—especially when Sebastian was caught up in exams or when Harry had been forced to work long hours at the art gallery.

But there was no more big lies between the two, and no matter how bad their tempers and words got—they always talked it out once they had cooled down.

They had come out tonight to celebrate because Sebastian had just finished yet another year of schooling, with only one more to go before he could graduate with honors in applied mathematics and start looking for a job. That paired with Harry's own recent success had made a night of letting loose with their good friends an easy choice.

While Harry had never chosen to continue with his own schooling—instead starting to work at a gallery straight off, he had been slowly but surely making a name for himself in the art world. He had just managed to sell several pieces in the last show—nothing huge or flashy but something that he could truly say he was proud about. Knowing that he had sold them on his own raw talent and not because of the fame that had attached itself to his name since his defeat of Voldemort, allowed for him a rare display of pride.

In fact he had sold enough pieces to get himself a spot in the next show several months from now- Sebastian had shown him how proud he was of him-in his own uniquely Sebastian way (a way that Harry was set on returning tonight after they got home and some privacy).

Harry found himself drawn from his contemplation by the feel of a warm body pressing up against his back; a body that he would recognize anywhere.

Turning slowly, and as seductively as he could—making sure that he rubbed against Sebastian in all the right places as he did so, he sent his husband a smile.

"Hey stranger, want to dance?"

The answering smirk was answer enough.

 

_THE END!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTES
> 
> Song artist and song: Bright Eyes: First day of my life


End file.
